We’re moving on, away from Europe. We’ll be in Morocco April 10!”

Several recurring thoughts about the good things in Europe:

1. Consideration for workers: In every country we’ve been to outside of the U.S., checkout clerks at grocery stores have seats at the cash register. Customers bag things themselves, and more frequently than not are expected to bring their own bags with them.

2. Cheap health care: We would have been set back at least a thousand dollars in the U.S. for the dental care and emergency care for Steve’s heart that we took care of in Poland and Croatia.

3. Good food: Especially in the Western European countries of Italy, France and the Netherlands, we’ve been blown away by the quality of produce and the cheap prices of good cheese and wine. We’re in love with the cheeses of France, especially goat cheese. I can’t help but think that in the U.S. we’re eating stale bread, bland cheese, bad fruit. Almost every fruit and vegetable I’ve bought in France has been sold at its best point.

4. Community: Although we are foreigners, we have very social experiences when we do our grocery shopping. And walking down the streets — especially in France — even little kids say hello! There’s little alienation here. It seems that the U.S. has some epidemic of alienation and paranoia. Or maybe it’s just me – maybe I’m now more open to experiences, more engaged.

kathy’s all most done with issue #18 of her online poetry/art journal thecitypoetry.com. this will be her second issue with international contributors. . . includes a london poet, a nepalese poet, a krakow artist – who knows whom else. i think she’ll even include me, since i’ve been sleeping with her – and usually if you sleep with the publisher, you’re supposed to get published.

i’ve read too much, know too much about this corporate world’s evils. the cheney-bush beast makes me yearn for the waters of the river lethe – (Greek mythology – the River Lethe – a river in Hades; the souls of the dead had to drink from it, which made them forget all they had done and suffered when they were alive).

it’s not as easy to know stuff anymore. according to Reporters Without Borders’ annual Press Freedom Index, in 2002 under Saddam Hussein, Iraq’s freedom of he press ranked 130th out of all the countries in the world. In 2006, under cheney, Iraq fell to position 154. The same index listed the U.S. #17 in 2002, dropping to #56 in 2006.

in 4 years – going from being ruled by a ruthless dictator to being occupied by the even more ruthless cheney-bush – the iraq press freedom index worsened by 24 points – in that same bush-beast period, america’s freedom of the press index worsened by 39 points.

either heal the bush-cheney furor, or heil the cheney-bush fuhrer.

2 depressing headlines in one day – one about cheney’s plane having only minor mechanical difficulties – the other about cheney being ok after an afghanistan explosion. reality’s teasing me. but that’s ok – i can take a joke. besides, i don’t really want him to die – i want both portions of the cheney-bush beast to live a long long time so they can suffer for their crimes against humanity and the american treasury. i want them to regret their sins, to live long enough to suffer remorse for those they’ve murdered. but since cheney lacks a soul and bush lacks a brain, neither will ever admit they’re wrong. we’ll have to try them for war crimes, and lock them both up forever. give them nothing but their daily bread and waterboarding.

i read a fairy tale as a wee one.

in it, there was a large rock in the road. everyone walked around the rock, cursing it for interrupting the traffic flow. but no one ever actually did anything about it. finally a young boy comes along, sees the rock is in the way, and moves it off to the side. once he’s moved it, he discovers there was a pot of gold underneath it, which he takes to help his family.

ever since, i’ve been removing rocks from the road, trying to help others flow. i’ve never found gold payment for my efforts. but i have learned moving the rock, and helping others anonymously, is reward enough.

last 3 days we’ve seen 2 rainbows and an angel of mercy.

finally fixed the bicycles over the weekend. took both of us because i’m so mechanically inept i couldn’t get the new inner tube inflated. the french use a different air stem logic. requires multiple steps whereas american inflating is insert and blow. kathy figured it out after i cursed awhile.

today we biked two towns over. now i’ve two things in common with lance armstrong – i’ve recovered from cancer and i’ve biked in france. where’s my trophy? (kathy’s my trophy,. my prize, my reward – seems almost shameful to love your wife more than ever after 18 months together, most of it 24/7). 15 miles round trip – the 7.5 mile return trip was uphill and against a head wind so strong, i had to pedal to go down hill – didn’t need brakes cuz if you stopped pedaling, the wind stopped you.

as soon as we got there, i hit a pot hole and got a flat tire. had the repair kit with me. i am a mechanical moron, have the machine skills of an elderly catholic nun – none. i stood staring at the flat, talking to myself, thinking normal humans do this all the time – i am smart, college educated, so i too can do this. i meditated myself into a place where i would not get angry and curse up a useless storm. we took digital fotos of how the chain looked going in and out over and around the gears so we would know how to put it back on. i took the tire off, took the tube out. a tall older gentleman came by and told us we’d better go into the store behind us right away to buy a new tube because the store was closing in 10 minutes. told him i had a repair kit and could fix it. he insisted we needed a new tube. he took kathy in to buy one while i tried to repair it. it had blown at the base of the air stem and was unrepairable. had it not been for this sudden angel of mercy, i would have been futilely fricked fracked and fractured.

so many times in my past, angels have of mercy have appeared to help me. sometimes men, sometimes women, occasionally children – and once in croatia it was two dogs who stopped us from renting bicycles we didn’t need because our hosts had already found some for us. in krakow we were trying to check into the place we had rented for 6 weeks, but it was locked. no one answered any of the buzzers. couldn’t find a phone. suddenly a young blonde tri-lingual lady named diana came by, said “oh, are you trying to get in?.” whipped out her phone, made 3 calls, the door opened, she grabbed kathy’s back pack and carried it up 3 flights of stairs, had the cleaning lady loan us her key for a day, and then disappeared. she’d stopped by to tell her boss who lived in the building she wasn’t coming to work the next day. at least that was her excuse… i’m not sure she was really human.

i think these people and animals are angels. reality sees we’re trying to live life, and occasionally offers us a wee bit of help.

on the other foot – in hershey pennsylvania in 1968, i stopped on a hot day for a soda pop from an outdoor machine. as soon as the bottle popped into the slot, i looked up and saw this 7 year old boy on a bicycle staring longingly at my bottle. i said “here” and handed it to him. he thanked me and took off. went into my pockets for more change for another pop, and found i didn’t have enough. broke out laughing at the joke reality played on me. it was worth it though because when i was a kid, i’d wished someone would give me a free bottle of pop – no one ever did, so i gave one to another to pay off the child inside me.

 

i am a marital artist – i know Cunt Fu. i’m going to offer my Cunt Fu classes to the sexually dyslectic. i’ll teach the different stances and motions such as Major Mambo Moving, Lower Lip Loving, Clitoris Centralis Climactus, Helpful Hand Humping, Rapid Rat Rubbing, Elongus Erectus Ejectus, Moist Member Mounting, Fine Finger Furrowing, and that most powerful strategy of all – Tender Tongue Touching.

i also offer extensive courses in Rat Rubbing. have you ever sidled up to your lady and said hey baby i wanna rub your rat. i’m a rat rubber from way back. you want a happy rat, you gotta rub em right. rub em wrong, you might pull back a stump. i like to rub them against my head, generate static electricity, then stick em on the wall – kinda cool to see all these wall rats wiggling their little wet rat lips at you. so sign up now for my course on rudimentary rapidly rotating righteously revolving renditious rat rubbing – reduced rates redacted.