Possibly, I'm Insane

Dysfunctional Families Close Ranks

Whatever the horrors that Iran's theocracy has visited upon its own people - and they are horrors, as the grieving survivors of at least 7,000 Iranians killed by the regime in the past few months can attest, and the relatives of untold thousands killed in the years since 1979 - people in Iran will put that aside and stand against what we've done to them in the past 36 or so hours. 

Your family may break your bones, bruise your mind, or force you down into heartbreak. You may hate your mother or your brother for what they've done to you. You may dream of revenge.

But when the neighborhood bully comes and strikes them down, injured or dead, then turns to you with a smile and says, "You're welcome," and expects you to go to your knees and thank him for that violence? You may well jump on the bastard's back and close your fingers around his neck, or hook them into his eyes, because they were your weight to bear, your sorrow to work through. 

Didn't we learn this when we "freed" Iraq? 

Apparently not. 

So ... It's Another KPop First

At least for me; I'm joining 19 other KPop fans, all of them BTS ARMYs, for the BTS concert in Chicago in August. For about the same amount of money that I paid for the Lolla ticket I had to see Stray Kids. I'm buying into a box with AC, a private bathroom and apparently all the popcorn one could possibly want. 

And why did I do this? Why did I pay very good money to watch a group I'm truly not interested in beyond a curiosity about the first KPop group to break into the Western World, and upset the KPop apple cart whilst doing so?

I think I just answered my own question with the last sentence. 

I have KPop friends who are ARMY (the name for BTS fandom) first, last, and always. The crew I tend to hang with in Discord often has multiple groups they like, but many of them got into KPop because of BTS. The music reactor who led me to the crew on Discord got into KPop via BTS. And there is a veritable army of ARMY across the world who love the group. 

I've had more than one invitation to watch the group perform. Until now, I hadn't the slightest intention of doing so (beyond the concert films I went to see with some of my friendly ARMY acquaintances.)

Somehow, this time I knew this was a chance. I need to talk to these people about what lured them into being BTS fans. And I need to listen to some of their music - I have until August to get a little more acquainted with the music. (I do like the solo music from two group members, RM and Suga. If I like their music, perhaps I can listen to group songs and figure out a little bit of what makes them ... great? Yes, probably great. 

That doesn't mean I'll come out of this expensive experiment as a dedicated member of ARMY. It does mean that I really want to understand the BTS deal, and approach that with people I'm already at least a bit friendly with. I mean, they invited me, which to me says that they're the positive type of ARMY, not the toxic ones that are apparently out there. 

So at the age of 70 - hell, I'll be almost 71 when the concert happens - I'm checking out something new. At least for me. 

I don't want to say pray for me, because I doubt it'll be a terrible experience. I do want to say cross your fingers for me. 

JFC, kaffy_r  ....

Well Done, Thou Good and Faithful Servant

The Rev. Jesse Jackson has died at the age of 84. We were driving north on Ashland Avenue when the word came over the radio. I gasped, and did that "Nooo!" thing that's so cliche, but proof that cliches have their roots in truth. 

I knew he was old; I knew he had progressive supranuclear palsy; I knew he could no longer walk or speak, this man whose oratory raised the hopes, dreams and resistance of so many black, brown, and marginalized people. I knew he was going to die. But I didn't want it to happen. 

I knew he was a complex man. I knew he was vain. I knew he was a little apt to enlarge himself in many instances. I knew he'd made antisemitic comments years ago; I knew he felt sidelined by Barack Obama's presidential campaign, after doing the hard work of paving the way for a black president with his own two surprisingly successful campaigns in 1984 and 1988. I knew he'd had a child out of wedlock. 

But he didn't let his vanity outpace his love for others. He relearned humility and other lessons after each misstep. I knew he acknowledged and supported his natural daughter. I knew he was a gifted organizer as well as an orator, I knew he visited Cook County jail every Christmas when others might have - indeed had - forgotten those men. I knew he walked the walk as well as talked the talk. And there's another cliche that has its root in truth. 

I met him three times. Once, on the street, heading for Grant Park, the night Obama won the presidency in 2008. He took my questions, brief as they were, and answered me in as thoughtful a way as one can in about 30 seconds. I met him a second time when he spoke to students at Niles West High School in Skokie, a significantly Jewish community. I met him a final time, at a Wilmette synagogue, where he spoke, his voice already being conquered by his illness. He would never have remembered me, but I remembered him. 

I'm not black. I'm not really poor. I have privilege that he never had. But I remember his "I am Somebody." I remember. And I cry. 

I'm not a Christian believer, not really, not for years. But I can hope that if the God he tried so hard to honor is there somewhere, when the Rev. Jesse Jackson reaches the seat of the Lord, that Lord will look to him and say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." 

Here is what an excellent Chicago writer, Neil Steinberg has to say about Rev. Jackson, who was, and is, quintessentially Chicago. And here is a link to a local CBS News special on him.