Sunday, October 15, 2006

The Star Mangled Banner

Below is a link to Jimi Hendrix’s version of the Star Spangled Banner. He wrote it in protest of the Vietnam War. Those of us who lived through that era remember Jimi Hendrix, Janice Joplin, Simon & Garfunkel, and a host of other vocal artists protesting an illegal war the only way they knew how.

Listen and appreciate how Hendrix’s Star Spangled Banner works perfectly for today’s war on Iraq.
http://www.star-spangled-banner.info/jimi-hendrix/
(The mp3 is in the upper left.)

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BE VIGILANT!
SAVE INTERNET NEUTRALITY!
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Iraq for sale …
Low bidders welcome.
Apply at any Republican fund-raiser;
just bring your checkbook.
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REPUBLICAN SCANDALS:
The gift that keeps on giving
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Republican cronyism cancels contracts from non-Bush supporters

Bush's Top U.S. Housing Official Blocked Contract, Report Says

By Neil Roland

Sept. 22 (Bloomberg) -- The Bush administration's top housing official temporarily blocked a federal contract with a Massachusetts firm because of its political affiliation and for personal reasons, senior U.S. Housing and Urban Development aides told investigators.

HUD Secretary Alphonso Jackson, a member of President George W. Bush's Cabinet, also urged aides to favor friends of Bush when awarding contracts, a report by the agency's inspector general said. The report cited the sworn testimony of Jackson's aides including his chief of staff, Camille Pierce, a lawyer who has worked for Jackson on and off since the 1980s.

The investigation found “no direct evidence'' that political favoritism actually played a role in specific grants or contracts, according to an executive summary of the 340-page report.

Jackson, who was head of the Dallas Housing Authority while Bush was governor, told investigators that his opposition to a contract for Abt Associates in Cambridge, Massachusetts, stemmed from the quality of the firm's work. The report said Jackson's statement, tape recorded and given under oath, is “rendered problematic by other testimony and evidence.''

In a prepared statement today, Jackson said, “No contract has been cancelled, rescinded, terminated, awarded or not awarded due to the personal or political benefits of the recipient.''

Jackson, 61, blocked the 2005 HUD contract with Abt “for a significant period of time,'' the report said. He has been HUD secretary since March 2004 and was appointed deputy secretary of the agency in June 2001.

Support
The Bush administration today expressed support for Jackson in response to Democratic lawmakers' calls for the secretary's resignation and for a Justice Department investigation.

“President Bush supports Secretary Jackson and appreciates his efforts to provide affordable housing and economic development opportunities for all Americans,'' White House spokeswoman Emily Lawrimore said in a prepared statement.

Federal procurement laws prohibit rewarding or punishing contractors on the basis of their political views.

“We must not allow taxpayer-funded contracts to be handed out to political allies as rewards for loyalty,'' said Representative Henry Waxman, a California Democrat.

Pierce, who has been Jackson's chief of staff since March 2003, wasn't available for comment, HUD spokesman Jerry Brown said. Abt spokesman Peter Broderick didn't respond today to requests for comment.

The investigation followed Jackson's boast during an April speech in Dallas that he had blocked an advertising contract because the contractor criticized Bush. Investigators found no evidence Jackson had interceded on the contract.

“I lied, and I regret having done that,'' Jackson is quoted as saying in the report.

In a statement issued today, Jackson said, “I sincerely regret my April 28 remarks that led to this investigation.''

The results of the inquiry, which hasn't been officially released by HUD, was reported today by the Washington Post.

HUD inspector general spokeswoman Helen Albert declined comment.

A word from Dot Calm: "Aside from being an interesting read, THIS PRACTICE IS ILLEGAL! Here’s another quarter heard from ..."

From Think Progress
Housing Secretary Canceled Contract Because Contractor
Criticized Bush, Apparently Violating Law

Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Alphonso Jackson publicly admitted that he canceled a government contract with a business because the CEO was critical of President Bush. From the Dallas Business Journal:

“He had made every effort to get a contract with HUD for 10 years,” Jackson said of the prospective contractor. “He made a heck of a proposal and was on the (General Services Administration) list, so we selected him. He came to see me and thank me for selecting him. Then he said something … he said, ‘I have a problem with your president.’

“I said, ‘What do you mean?’ He said, ‘I don’t like President Bush.’ I thought to myself, ‘Brother, you have a disconnect — the president is elected, I was selected. You wouldn’t be getting the contract unless I was sitting here. If you have a problem with the president, don’t tell the secretary.’

“He didn’t get the contract,” Jackson continued. “Why should I reward someone who doesn’t like the president, so they can use funds to try to campaign against the president? Logic says they don’t get the contract. That’s the way I believe.”

Jackson’s conduct appears to be in violation of federal law. From the Federal Acquisition Regulations, 48 CFR 3.101-1:

Government business shall be conducted in a manner above reproach and, except as authorized by statute or regulation, with complete impartiality and with preferential treatment for none. Transactions relating to the expenditure of public funds require the highest degree of public trust and an impeccable standard of conduct.

Jackson has admitted that this particular contract was not awarded with “impartiality.” The business that would have been awarded the contract was excluded because of the contractor’s political views.

The Competition in Contracting Act (41 U.S.C. 253(b)(1)) details the six circumstances in which a particular contractor can be excluded. Needless to say, political views are not on the list.

It is also highly unusual for a cabinet secretary to be involved in the awarding or cancellation of a particular contract.

Stealing America...Vote by Vote

A review of
Stealing America...Vote by Vote

"Stealing America...Vote by Vote " is a powerful, moving, infuriating, comprehensive, and brilliant new film. It might well be re-named “The Crime of the Century.” The film is by Dorothy Fadiman.

We all now know that the elections of 2000 and 2004 were stolen. The only thing that the American people can be proud of about George W. Bush is that they (or we) have never chosen him President.

Fadiman's many awards include an Emmy and an Oscar nomination, and in this excellent film, we can see why. She uses these 70 cinematic minutes to patiently, methodically, and convincingly dismantle any possible remaining arguments against the reality of what was done to the American democratic process in 2004, primarily in Ohio.

With neither hysteria nor hyperbole, she presents a series of interviews with voters, election officials, writers, and experts who have followed the theft since before it was perpetrated (by way of disclosure, brief interviews with myself and my frequent co-author Bob Fitrakis appear in the film). Fadiman wisely peppers the piece with clever, on-point clips from the major media, most importantly from Comedy Central.

The frequent appearances of Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., add grativas. He has just, after all, used Rolling Stone Magazine to drop another major bomb on the credibilty of a voting process which has been thoroughly raped by the Republican Party, with results that can only be described as being somewhere between catastrophic and apocalyptic. Much of Kennedy's research has derived from the dogged work of Ohio's unsung grasswork election protection network making his appearances all the more relevant.

The sum effect of STEALING AMERICA: Vote by Vote is to enable us to understand in no uncertain terms that we either act on this issue, or we lose what few threads remain of our precious democracy. Fadiman wisely ends STEALING AMERICA with first-person testimonials of citizens who have taken the issue into their own hands, as did our nation's founders more than 200 years ago, in opposition to another George.

May we be once again successful, and perhaps, this time, even a bit wiser. The founders, after all, left the door open for electronic voting machines. This time, we know better.

Harvey Wasserman is co-author, with Bob Fitrakis and Steve Rosenfeld, of WHAT HAPPENED IN OHIO?, just published by the New Press. He is author of SOLARTOPIA! and HARVEY WASSERMAN'S HISTORY OF THE U.S., available at www.harveywasserman.com.

Senate Betrays American Values, Undermines Rule of Law

A word from Dot Calm: "This is serious and should be read by every American!"

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Fundamental protections central to our system of justice have been
thrown by the wayside as the senate passed the Election-Year Tribunals bill. People For the American Way President Ralph G. Neas issued the following statement in response to the bill which denies fundamental legal protections to detainees of the United States:

“Senator John McCain has often noted how our system of justice makes us different from terrorists—how it gives us the moral high ground. While terrorists might resort to torture, it has long been against the law for Americans to do so. At least that used to be the case, before Senator McCain and others caved to the Bush administration and passed this atrocious measure.

“This legislation turns our system of justice upside down, betrays basic American values of fairness and justice, and undermines the rule of law. It gives the Bush administration a blank check to detain whoever it sees fit, and to use whatever interrogation techniques it wants, without oversight. It deprives detainees of habeas corpus—their right to challenge their imprisonment in the courts—and it may make them vulnerable to the use of secret or coerced evidence. Adding insult to injury, this legislation includes a blanket waiver letting members of this administration off the hook for potential violations of the law. What a disgrace.

“Some senators probably supported this measure because they were worried about being perceived as soft on terrorism. But capitulation doesn’t make them look strong. If they want to win the votes of people who are worried about security, they had better show that they know how to stand up and fight. Unfortunately for our democracy, too many of them have failed to do so today.”


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There are more than 30 attacks daily against our troops
fighting in Iraq. Is it time for Iraq to be divided into three
independent countries? Is it time for major change in our
policy in Iraq? The status quo must change. Rumsfeld
needs to go.

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The arrogant, the misguided, and the cowards


by Sean Penn

October 4, 2006

The following is a statement by actor Sean Penn given on October 2, 2006 at the Great Hall of Cooper Union, New York City. It was read by Mark Ruffalo (his co-star in "All the King's Men") at an emergency meeting of World Can't Wait-Drive Out the Bush Regime held in response to passage of the Torture Bill and in preparation for protests happening on Thursday, October 5 in over 190 cities nationwide (http://www.worldcantwait.org).

The arrogant, the misguided, the cowards would argue that an immediate pull-out of our troops from Iraq would inspire lack of confidence and the lost credibility of the United States. President Bush and his functionaries indeed have lost enormous credibility for the perception of our country internationally. Perhaps more damaging than that, they have created the greatest cultural, religious, and political divide domestically since our own Civil War.

We the people of the United States have a unique opportunity. We can show each other and the world that what the Bush administration claims is their mission is not ours. And, by leading our country as a citizenry and demanding of our government an immediate end to our own military and profit investments in Iraq, display for the entire world that democracy is a government of the people. What more powerful message to send the world than that we ourselves can choose - in policy, in peace, and in humanitarian support.

In fascism, one serves the State. Let's show the world that with democracy, we can make the State do our bidding, and that such bids would not be the blind ones, given exclusively to the friends of power. But rather, the domain of the people of freedom everywhere. This is an administration that advocates torture, deceives the public, spends billions of dollars on a failed war. This is an administration where in the year of Katrina, Exxon Mobil claimed the highest profit margin in the history of world business. It is an administration that belittles, demeans, deceives, and indeed kills our brothers, our sisters, our sons, and our daughters.

At the U.S./Mexico border, we panic at the notion of illegal entry, without blinking an eye as our elderly line up every Saturday morning with wheelchairs, walkers, canes and joint pain, queued up in the desert heat to enter Mexico where they can purchase affordable medication. In the human family, this President is indeed pushing his wheelchair-bound grandmother down the stairs with a smile on his face. Everyone knows that these are true statements. Everyone. Some are ashamed of where they've put their support in the past, their passivity in the present, with the courage of their minds and hearts at bay. What an exciting thing to reverse this as one America and show the world who wears the pants in this house.

Stand up as an American and join World Can't Wait and those demonstrating this Thursday, October 5th.

Out of Iraq. And out with Bush.


The Federalist Papers

The existence of these papers was noted in an earlier post to this blog. All 85 papers will be published on this blog. They are worth our consideration since our Constitution is based on their precepts. The following Federalist paper was written by John Jay.

The Federalist Papers were written and published during the years 1787 and 1788 in several New York State newspapers to persuade New York voters to ratify the proposed constitution. They consist of 85 essays outlining how this new government would operate and why this type of government was the best choice for the United States of America. The essays were signed PUBLIUS. The authors of some papers are under dispute, but the general consensus is that Alexander Hamilton wrote 52, James Madison wrote 28, and John Jay contributed the remaining five. The Federalist Papers remain today as an excellent reference for anyone who wants to understand the U.S. Constitution.


MY LAST paper assigned several reasons why the safety of the people would be best secured by union against the danger it may be exposed to by JUST causes of war given to other nations; and those reasons show that such causes would not only be more rarely given, but would also be more easily accommodated, by a national government than either by the State governments or the proposed little confederacies.

But the safety of the people of America against dangers from FOREIGN force depends not only on their forbearing to give JUST causes of war to other nations, but also on their placing and continuing themselves in such a situation as not to INVITE hostility or insult; for it need not be observed that there are PRETENDED as well as just causes of war.

It is too true, however disgraceful it may be to human nature, that nations in general will make war whenever they have a prospect of getting anything by it; nay, absolute monarchs will often make war when their nations are to get nothing by it, but for the purposes and objects merely personal, such as thirst for military glory, revenge for personal affronts, ambition, or private compacts to aggrandize or support their particular families or partisans. These and a variety of other motives, which affect only the mind of the sovereign, often lead him to engage in wars not sanctified by justice or the voice and interests of his people. But, independent of these inducements to war, which are more prevalent in absolute monarchies, but which well deserve our attention, there are others which affect nations as often as kings; and some of them will on examination be found to grow out of our relative situation and circumstances.

With France and with Britain we are rivals in the fisheries, and can supply their markets cheaper than they can themselves, notwithstanding any efforts to prevent it by bounties on their own or duties on foreign fish.

With them and with most other European nations we are rivals in navigation and the carrying trade; and we shall deceive ourselves if we suppose that any of them will rejoice to see it flourish; for, as our carrying trade cannot increase without in some degree diminishing theirs, it is more their interest, and will be more their policy, to restrain than to promote it.

In the trade to China and India, we interfere with more than one nation, inasmuch as it enables us to partake in advantages which they had in a manner monopolized, and as we thereby supply ourselves with commodities which we used to purchase from them.

The extension of our own commerce in our own vessels cannot give pleasure to any nations who possess territories on or near this continent, because the cheapness and excellence of our productions, added to the circumstance of vicinity, and the enterprise and address of our merchants and navigators, will give us a greater share in the advantages which those territories afford, than consists with the wishes or policy of their respective sovereigns.

Spain thinks it convenient to shut the Mississippi against us on the one side, and Britain excludes us from the Saint Lawrence on the other; nor will either of them permit the other waters which are between them and us to become the means of mutual intercourse and traffic.

From these and such like considerations, which might, if consistent with prudence, be more amplified and detailed, it is easy to see that jealousies and uneasinesses may gradually slide into the minds and cabinets of other nations, and that we are not to expect that they should regard our advancement in union, in power and consequence by land and by sea, with an eye of indifference and composure.

The people of America are aware that inducements to war may arise out of these circumstances, as well as from others not so obvious at present, and that whenever such inducements may find fit time and opportunity for operation, pretenses to color and justify them will not be wanting. Wisely, therefore, do they consider union and a good national government as necessary to put and keep them in SUCH A SITUATION as, instead of INVITING war, will tend to repress and discourage it. That situation consists in the best possible state of defense, and necessarily depends on the government, the arms, and the resources of the country.

As the safety of the whole is the interest of the whole, and cannot be provided for without government, either one or more or many, let us inquire whether one good government is not, relative to the object in question, more competent than any other given number whatever.

One government can collect and avail itself of the talents and experience of the ablest men, in whatever part of the Union they may be found. It can move on uniform principles of policy. It can harmonize, assimilate, and protect the several parts and members, and extend the benefit of its foresight and precautions to each. In the formation of treaties, it will regard the interest of the whole, and the particular interests of the parts as connected with that of the whole. It can apply the resources and power of the whole to the defense of any particular part, and that more easily and expeditiously than State governments or separate confederacies can possibly do, for want of concert and unity of system. It can place the militia under one plan of discipline, and, by putting their officers in a proper line of subordination to the Chief Magistrate, will, as it were, consolidate them into one corps, and thereby render them more efficient than if divided into thirteen or into three or four distinct independent companies.
What would the militia of Britain be if the English militia obeyed the government of England, if the Scotch militia obeyed the government of Scotland, and if the Welsh militia obeyed the government of Wales? Suppose an invasion; would those three governments (if they agreed at all) be able, with all their respective forces, to operate against the enemy so effectually as the single government of Great Britain would?

We have heard much of the fleets of Britain, and the time may come, if we are wise, when the fleets of America may engage attention. But if one national government, had not so regulated the navigation of Britain as to make it a nursery for seamen--if one national government had not called forth all the national means and materials for forming fleets, their prowess and their thunder would never have been celebrated. Let England have its navigation and fleet--let Scotland have its navigation and fleet--let Wales have its navigation and fleet--let Ireland have its navigation and fleet--let those four of the constituent parts of the British empire be be under four independent governments, and it is easy to perceive how soon they would each dwindle into comparative insignificance.

Apply these facts to our own case. Leave America divided into thirteen or, if you please, into three or four independent governments--what armies could they raise and pay--what fleets could they ever hope to have? If one was attacked, would the others fly to its succor, and spend their blood and money in its defense? Would there be no danger of their being flattered into neutrality by its specious promises, or seduced by a too great fondness for peace to decline hazarding their tranquillity and present safety for the sake of neighbors, of whom perhaps they have been jealous, and whose importance they are content to see diminished? Although such conduct would not be wise, it would, nevertheless, be natural. The history of the states of Greece, and of other countries, abounds with such instances, and it is not improbable that what has so often happened would, under similar circumstances, happen again.

But admit that they might be willing to help the invaded State or confederacy. How, and when, and in what proportion shall aids of men and money be afforded? Who shall command the allied armies, and from which of them shall he receive his orders? Who shall settle the terms of peace, and in case of disputes what umpire shall decide between them and compel acquiescence? Various difficulties and inconveniences would be inseparable from such a situation; whereas one government, watching over the general and common interests, and combining and directing the powers and resources of the whole, would be free from all these embarrassments, and conduce far more to the safety of the people.

But whatever may be our situation, whether firmly united under one national government, or split into a number of confederacies, certain it is, that foreign nations will know and view it exactly as it is; and they will act toward us accordingly. If they see that our national government is efficient and well administered, our trade prudently regulated, our militia properly organized and disciplined, our resources and finances discreetly managed, our credit re-established, our people free, contented, and united, they will be much more disposed to cultivate our friendship than provoke our resentment. If, on the other hand, they find us either destitute of an effectual government (each State doing right or wrong, as to its rulers may seem convenient), or split into three or four independent and probably discordant republics or confederacies, one inclining to Britain, another to France, and a third to Spain, and perhaps played off against each other by the three, what a poor, pitiful figure will America make in their eyes! How liable would she become not only to their contempt but to their outrage, and how soon would dear-bought experience proclaim that when a people or family so divide, it never fails to be against themselves.

PUBLIUS.

Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

Although reminiscent now, the mood of Joyce Carol Oates’s short story seems appropriate today. The story tells of the adventures of a teenage girl, its title a perfectly timed metaphor as we forge ahead into an uncertain future. Joyce Carol Oates (b. 1938) dedicated this work to Bob Dylan. It allows the reader a glimpse into the thoughts of a young writer of her time. Below is the first of four installments.

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Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

Her name was Connie. She was fifteen and she had a nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other people’s faces to make sure her own was all right. Her mother, who noticed everything and knew everything and who hadn’t much reason any longer to look at her own face, always scolded Connie about it. “Stop gawking at yourself who are you? You think you’re so pretty?” she would say. Connie would raise her eyebrows at these familiar complaints and look right through her mother, into a shadowy vision of herself as she was right at that moment; she knew she was pretty and that was everything. Her mother was pretty once too, if you could believe those old snapshots in the album, but now her looks were gone and that was why she was always after Connie.

“Why don’t you keep your room clean like your sister? How’ve you got your hair fixed–what the hell stinks? Hair spray? You don’t see your sister using that junk.”

Her sister June was twenty-four and still lived at home. She was a secretary in the high school Connie attended, and if that wasn’t bad enough–with her in the same building–she was so plain and chunky and steady that Connie had to hear her praised all the time by her mother and her mother’s sisters. June did this, June did that, she saved money and helped clean the house and cooked, and Connie couldn’t do a thing, her mind was all filled with trashy daydreams. Their father was away at work most of the time and when he came home he wanted supper and he read the newspaper at supper and after supper he went to bed. He didn’t bother talking much to them, but around his bent head Connie’s mother kept picking at her until Connie wished her mother were dead and she herself were dead and it were all over. “She makes me want to throw up sometimes,” she complained to her friends. She had a high, breathless, amused voice which made everything she said sound a little forced, whether it was sincere or not.

There was one good thing: June went places with girlfriends of hers, girls who were just as plain and steady as she, and so when Connie wanted to do that her mother had no objections. The father of Connie’s best girlfiend drove the girls the three miles to town and left them off at a shopping plaza, so that they could walk through the stores or go to a movie, and when he came to pick them up again at eleven he never bothered to ask what they had done.

They must have been familiar sites walking around in that shopping plaza in their shorts and flat ballerina slippers that always scuffed the sidewalk, with charm bracelets jingling on their thin wrists; they would lean together to whisper and laugh secretly if someone passed by who amused or interested them. Connie had long dark blond hair that drew anyone’s eye to it, and she wore part of it pulled up on her head and puffed out and the rest of it she let fall down her back. She wore a pullover jersey blouse that looked one way when she was at home and another way when she was away from home. Everything about her had two sides to it, one for home and one for anywhere that was not home: her walk that could be childlike and bobbing, or languid enough to make anyone think she was hearing music in her head, her mouth which was pale and smirking most of the time, but bright and pink on these evenings out, her laugh which was cynical and drawling at home–“Ha, ha, very funny”–but high-pitched and nervous anywhere else, like the jingling of the charms on her bracelet.

Sometimes they did go shopping or to a movie, but sometimes they went across the highway, ducking fast across the busy road, to a drive-in restaurant where older kids hung out. The restaurant was shaped like a big bottle, though squatter than a real bottle, and on its cap was a revolving figure of the grinning boy who held a hamburger aloft. One night in midsummer they ran across, breathless with daring, and right away someone leaned out of a car window and invited them over, but it was just a boy from high school they didn’t like. It made them feel good to be able to ignore him. They went up through the maze of parked and cruising cars to the bright-lit, fly-infested restaurant, their faces pleased and expectant and if they were entering a sacred building that loomed out of the night to give them what haven and what haven they yearned for. They sat at the counter and crossed their legs at the ankles, their thin shoulders rigid with excitement, and listened to the music that made everything so good: the music was always in the background like music at a church service, it was something to depend upon.

A boy named Eddie came in to talk with them. He sat backward on his stool, turning himself jerkily around in semicircles and then stopping and turning again, and after awhile he asked Connie if she would like something to eat. She said she did and so she tapped her friend’s arm on her way out–her friend pulled her face up into a brave droll look–and Connie said she would meet her at eleven, across the way. “I just hate to leave her like that,” Connie said earnestly, but the boy said that she wouldn’t be alone for long. So they went out to his car and on the way Connie couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over the windshields and faces all around her, her face gleaming with a joy that had nothing to do with Eddie or this place; it might have been the music. She drew her shoulders up and sucked in her breath with the pure pleasure of being alive, and just at that moment she happened to glance at a face just a few feet from hers. It was a boy with shaggy black hair, in a convertible jalopy painted gold. He stared at her and then his lips widened into a grin. Connie slit her eyes at him at turned away, but she couldn’t help glancing back and there he was still staring at her. He wagged a finger and laughed and said, “Gonna get you, baby,” and Connie turned away again without Eddie noticing anything.

She spent three hours with him, at the restaurant where they ate hamburgers and drank Cokes in waxed cups that were always sweating, and then down an alley a mile or so away, and when he left her off at five to eleven only the movie house was still open at the plaza. Her girlfriend was there talking with a boy. When Connie came up the two girls smiled at each other and Connie said, “How was the movie?” and the girl said, “You should know.” They rode off with the girl’s father, sleepy and pleased, and Connie couldn’t help but look at the darkened shopping plaza with its big empty parking lot and its signs that were faded and ghostly, and over at the drive-in restaurant where cars were still circling tirelessly. She couldn’t hear the music at this distance.

Next morning June asked her how the movie was and Connie said, “So-so.”

She and that girl and occasionally another girl went out several times a week that way, and the rest of the time Connie spent around the house–it was summer vacation–getting in her mother’s way and thinking, dreaming, about the boys she met. But all the boys fell back and dissolved into a single face that was not even a face, but an idea, a feeling, mixed up with the urgent insistent pounding of the music and the humid night air of July. Connie’s mother kept dragging her back to the daylight by finding things for her to do or saying, suddenly, “What’s this about the Pettinger girl?”

And Connie would say nervously, “Oh, her. That dope.” She always drew thick clear lines between herself and such girls, and her mother was simple and kindly enough to believe her. Her mother was so simple, Connie thought, that it was maybe cruel to fool her so much. Her mother went scuffling around the house in old bedroom slippers and complained over the telephone to one sister about the other, then the other called up and the two of them complained about the third one. If June’s name was mentioned her mother’s tone was approving, and if Connie’s name was mentioned it was disapproving. This did not really mean she disliked Connie and actually Connie thought that her mother preferred her to June because she was prettier, but the two of them kept up a pretense of exasperation, the sense that they were tugging and struggling over something of little value to either of them. Sometimes, over coffee, they were almost friends, but something would come up–some vexation that was like a fly buzzing suddenly around their heads–and their faces were hard with contempt.

One Sunday Connie got up at eleven–none of them bothered with church–and washed her hair so that it could dry all day long in the sun. Her parents and sisters were going to a barbecue at an aunt’s house and Connie said no, she wasn’t interested, rolling her eyes to let her mother know just what she thought of it. “Stay home alone then,” her mother said sharply. Connie sat out back in a lawn chair and watched them drive away, her father quiet and bald, hunched around so that he could back the car out, her mother with a look that was still angry and not at all softened through the windshield, and in the back seat poor old June all dressed up as if she didn’t know what a barbecue was, with all the running yelling kids and the flies. Connie sat with her eye closed in the sun, dreaming and dazed with the warmth about her as if this were a kind of love, the caresses of love, and her mind slipped over onto thoughts of the boy she had been with the night before and how nice he had been, how sweet it always was, not the way someone like June would suppose but, sweet, gentle, the way it was in the movies and promised in songs; and when she opened her eyes she hardly knew where she was, the back yard ran off into weeds and the fence line of trees and behind it the sky was perfectly blue and still. The asbestos “ranch house” that was now three years old startled her–it looked small. She shook her head as if to get awake.

It was too hot. She went inside the house and turned on the radio to drown out the quiet. She sat on the edge of her bed, barefoot, and listened for an hour and a half to a program called XYZ Sunday Jamboree, record after record of hard, fast, shrieking songs she sang along with, interspersed by exclamations from “Bobby King”:”An’ look here you girls at Napoleon’s–Son and Charley want you to pay real close attention to this song coming up!”

And Connie paid close attention herself, bathed in a glow of slow-pulsed joy that seemed to rise mysteriously out of the music itself and lay languidly about the airless little room, breathed in and breathed out with each gentle rise and fall of her chest.

After a while she heard a car coming up the drive. She sat up at once, startled, because it couldn’t be her father so soon. The gravel kept crunching all the way in from the road–the driveway was long–and Connie ran to the window. It was a car she didn’t know. It was an open jalopy, painted a bight gold that caught the sunlight opaquely. Her heart began to pound and her fingers snatched at ter hair, checking it and she whispered “Christ, Christ,” wondering how bad she looked. The car came to a stop at the side door and the horn sounded four short taps as if this were a signal Connie knew.

She went into the kitchen and approached the door slowly, then hung out the screen door, her bare toes curling down off the step. There were two boys in the car and now she recognized the driver: he has shaggy, shabby black hair that looked crazy as a wig and he was grinning at her.

“I ain’t late, am I?” he said.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Connie said.

“Toldja I’d be out, didn’t I?”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

She spoke sullenly, careful to show no interest or pleasure, and he spoke in a fast bright monotone. Connie looked past him to the other boy, taking her time. He had fair brown hair, with a lock that fell onto his forehead. His sideburns gave him a fierce, embarrassed look but so far he hadn’t even bothered to glance at her. Both boys wore sunglasses. The driver’s glasses were metallic and mirrored everything in miniature.

Stay tuned for part two of four parts in the next blog post.