rose festival

Driving home from Katie’s on Wednesday night I found myself behind an ambulance. The light was on and I could see right inside. There was a large Hispanic man, with a large white moustache talking lazily with the EMT. The man was sitting upright, and he was shirtless. It was so intimate that I was almost uncomfortable. We travelled together for a few blocks, stopped at a red light, and then they turned toward the hospital and I turned toward home.
I’ve been reading Sonny’s blog lately. It’s so weird to think of him in some office in Afghanistan just blogging and surfing the web. Thinking of his day to day life over there a) make the war seem very real, and b) makes me feel very protective over this man I’ve never met. I try not to see this war in black and white. There is a tendency on both sides to co-opt the experiences of soldiers and civilians to prove a point. “Men and women are over there dying for oil and power!” “Our boys are fighting for the noblest of causes: Freedom!” It’s easy and comfortable to see casualties as tokens and battles as discussions. But battles are battles! And casualties are people! I am worried about Sonny, and everyone he know over there, and everyone they know. Knowing his face, reading his history suddenly gives faces and histories to all of the forms in fatigues I normally picture when I think of war. Sonny! Be careful! World leaders! Send Sonny home!
Last night I went to the Rose Festival with Amy and Bob. First we watched fireworks from the East Side Esplanade, then we walked across the Hawthorne Bridge to the carnival on the other side. We rode the ferris wheel. It goes really fast! Bob kept standing up and yelling, “I’m on top of the world!” which is so played out that it is funny again. We wanted to go on more rides, but they were closing down so we played games instead. There’s a horse racing game that I’m really good at. When Bob and I went to Vegas last year I won three or four times in a row at that game. We played last night and Bob won, which was a huge blow to my ego. But he confessed to cheating, so I am still the champ. His prize was a plush snake whice he gave to a fairly unappreciative kid. Then we passed a booth that was decked out in neon signs- flamingos, cacti, dolphins- you name it. The deal was you pay $2 for one dart, and you have to hit one of the 50 or so red stars posted on a board. People were throwing away money on this game, buying handfuls of darts and coming up empty. Bob got excited. He was certain he could hit a star. Amy and I had faith in him. We each donated a dollar. He eyeballed the board. He inspected his dart. Then in one swift motion he thrust the dart into space. AND HE HIT A STAR!! RIGHT IN THE CENTER! BULLSEYE!! The carnie was amazed. She let us chose our neon. We instantly agreed on the pink naked lady. We went to Shanghai Tunnel to celebrate, and plugged the sign in right by our table to admire it and congratulate ourselves (well, Bob really). To my delight Bob and Amy decided to let me keep the pink lady, so she is now glowing away in my living room, beckoning lovers and laughs.
I just opened a flickr account, so uploading photos will soon be very easy. I’ll post some good Rose Fest pics later. I heart carnivals!