Martin Luther King

I must confess that I am totally captivated by his speach, "I have a dream".  I've been told that he didn't even write this speech.  I guess I can't prove that he did.  I know history likes to raise questions, especially about prominent citizens who are swimming against the flow.  I've heard (and I confess used) derogatory epithets in reference to Doctor King.  I'm ashamed that I did.


It is a fact that with a flair for drama as only black preaching can bring it, Martin Luther King delivered this message on August 28, 1963 from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.  In point of fact I lived through the sixties, grieving at the hate, violence and rebellion.  I heard King's speech, and I say it was a turning point in American history.  I applaud it even louder today than the day I first heard it.  

The crafting of the words "I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." is wordsmith genius.  It tugs at the core of decency that may still reside in the bosom of everyone who is made in the image of God. 

Granted, the USA is rapidly losing its memory of--even working to jettison--any kind of Christian moorings.  But this appeal has to find harmonic vibs in the most jaded cultural cynic.  In a decade that saw little black Sunday School girls blown up by a hateful coward; that saw men and women clubbed and hauled away from all-white lunch counters, it was the right message at the right time.

And the most commendable feature is that this message was delivered with the restraint of non-violence.  King said, "But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred."

That works with a people that still has a Christian memory, to use a Francis Schaeffer phrase.  It wouldn't have worked in some other cultures.  As Gandhi counted on the sense of decency in the majority of Brits who read the papers, so King counted on the vast majority of American citizens who read about the abuse he took would also react.  He certainly realized that racial warfare is just plain wrong, and would have accomplished ends that were diametrically opposed to his intention.

I'm glad we have a holiday for Martin Luther King.

But I must confess that I am saddened when I mention Martin Luther, and my hearers think I'm referring to Dr. King.

Growing season

Here it is January and I just noticed there are a few figs left on our tree.  No leaves, but figs.  I remember that during the bountiful summer months, this happy fig tree gave us figs almost every day.  As soon as we had eaten the beautiful fruit, others swelled to delicate peak of perfection.  I can understand those who think they dislike figs because they look icky, or because they yield slimy, seeded fruit.  But real men (and women) get them past the eyes and into the mouth where they cannot be doubted. 

These are black mission figs, and you know they are ripe when they begin to sag, a day or two after their shiny black erection.  The trick is to pick them before the birds find them hidden under a leaf (fig leaves cover very well, just ask Adam and Eve about that).

Oh yes, the other villains who sometimes discover the fructose before we do are the Japanese beetles.  They are huge beasts that look and sound like bumble bees until you are able to analyze them carefully.  The thing is, you don't feel like analyzing when they zoom by your ear with a threatening deep base buzz.  Fortunately, the beetles tend to converge on the same piece of fruit instead of infesting the whole tree.

After the harvest appeared to be over, I did see about 4 or 5 immature efforts on one late branch.  I remember thinking at the time, "I doubt that these figs will ever ripen."  I had forgotten about them until the season (yeah, we have something similar to fall that we call "winter" in California) dispossessed our tree of her leaves.  I must check on them tomorrow.

So while I was washing out a paint brush, way in the back of our estate, I discovered this zucchini still on the plant.  I just thought some of my friends back east might enjoy seeing it.  Okay, yes, I was taunting you with garden bragging rights of those of us who live on the left coast.  If the video of the Rose Parade was not enough to make you wish you were here, then just imagine this little dude in home made ratatouille or just sliced and sauteed with onion in olive oil with a little Parmesan sprinkle.  Yum.