Monday, October 24, 2005


Thunderous sky. Crows conducting a loud argument from various perches on Granville Street. I’m huddled in the entrance to Barrington Mall, gloomily smoking a cigarette.

Three tourists at 11 o’clock, a man, two women. It’s starting to pour and they’re struggling into fold-up, yellow rain capes with big pictures of Mickey Mouse emblazoned on the back. The women have ancient apple doll faces. The younger apple doll is bullying a cape over the older apple doll, who is in a wheelchair, sitting limp as a sock.

“You never do anything for yourself. We have to do everything.”
Great. An apple doll with a voice like Tugboat Annie and half the sensitivity.

A fat man in a uniform appears at the door. “Can you put that out? No smoking near the doorway. Policy.”

I put that out and go up to the school lunch counter to buy food.

The guy at the counter asks, “Are you a Wiccan?” I look at him stupidly.
“Well, if there’s a female god and a male god, who made them?”
“Excellent question,” I reply, “but I’m just buying a tuna fish sandwich.”

It’s Monday. On Monday I can’t remember who made God.

Rosa is gone.

Feb. 4, 1913 - October 24, 2005

December 1, 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white passenger. She was tired and tired of injustice.

By December 5th, her act of protest and subsequent arrest sparked the bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama. It lasted 381 days and by the end, the Supreme Court ruled that segregation on transportation was unconsitutional.

One weary woman with the courage of her convictions changed the world.

Namaste, Rosa. We bow to your spirit.

Thank you.