South of Sunnyside

I’m trying to be patient with the neighborhood, but we’re still almost two weeks out from Halloween. As in, it’s October.

So why are my neighbors hanging Christmas lights?

At least they’re taking their time and hiding all the cords…

I’m pretty sure your over-weight chow does not want to look like a “lion.”

Please stop it. You’re being ridiculous.

It looks like today is Fresno’s last day of 100° temps for the year, so it may be my last chance to complain about the heat for a while. Here goes.

I’ve noticed that when it comes to sunlight, many Americans don’t have access to adequate sun coverage. Such people often defer to tanning beds for “emergency” treatment to avoid long lines at public clinics pools. They cut holes in perfectly good walls so that they can filter in light and heat from the outside.

It’s just not right.

We in the Valley have an over-abundance of sun coverage—really, much of it is taken for granted and goes to waste. We have more than our share of heat and natural light, so I think we should spread the wealth. (Call me a socialist if you must.)

I propose a solar reform. Access to sunlight for all.

Contact your congressman; tell them I sent you.

Earlier this week I let loose on Twitter with a series of posts mocking propaganda attached to the opposition of Obama’s address to America’s schoolchildren. Opposition wasn’t my target; fear-mongering and polarization were. This morning, as I thought back eight years to where I was on September 11, 2001, I realized that I, too, was only feeding a frenzy.

When the towers went up in flames, I was at a Youth With a Mission base in Colorado, preparing an extended trip out of the country; needless to say, security at the airports was tight. I spent the next two months immersed in another culture, separated from the emotional turmoil felt back home.

I hope we never forget those who fell victim to such a horrible act of violence.

I also hope, however, that we learn to stop polarizing our communities, cultures, countries and everyday conversations. In war, or politics, or religion, or economics (or …) we seem bent on painting others as enemies—whether they’re 3,000 miles away, or right across the street.

That’s how I’d like to honor the victims of 9/11: by opening myself up to others’ perspectives, and acknowledging that even when we disagree, we can still be civil and respectful.

I have a long way to go. It won’t be easy. Anyone with me?