Sometimes I have to stop listening to NPR.  The constant in-depth reporting of the endless maladies of our world lose their charm.  I have to give up for a bit, knowing that in amongst the doom there are many gems I've missed.

Tonight, I drove out to the Cannery, a medium security women's facility of the Philadelphia Prisons System.  I hold Monday night 12-Step meetings there.  After I'd signed in at ASD, I waited in the parking lot of the Cannery, listening to NPR interview my hero Temple Grandin.  Sad to miss the last half of the program, I went up to the gates at the appointed time.

It was a good meeting, ebbing and flowing between hope and despair, in a way an outside meeting does.  Only it's more so inside, in my experience.  We all suffer the mood swings of addiction, the women inside suffering lost freedoms, children, partners, yet expressing hope that this will be their last bid.  I may be glad to leave, but sometimes I succumb to hopelessness, thinking that the message of experience, strength and hope that I carry will only live behind the razor wire.

That really isn't my problem though.  If I trust the greater spirit, then my part is done.  I only wish I did trust more.  I see amazing women, who have humour and grace in an untenable position.  But when they walk out into the chaotic world, they are sorely under duress, lacking funds, life skills; the list goes on.

Anyway, as I drove home, NPR was playing the music of an African man on their PRI program that you can listen to here.  Until recently Victor Deme has been largely ignored.  Not because his music was bad.  Rather, it did not conform to the music of his country.  You may also like to see a video of Msr. Deme, which I offer you also:

Also, I would like to say that I am sorry for being away for a bit.  I've been loony-tunes with a bit of barking mad recently.  Awful, actually.  That said, I've been working on killing my computer with heavy doses of cat hair, relentless saving of useless info, a dash of liquid and bloody felines that see it as a great way to get attention.  To the point where I may open the first ever "My Cat on Keyboard" blog. (@2009)!

So for my birthday, Cricket is going to have this puppy tuned up, bless her.  Guess I'll have to pull out all that porn I've been down-, or is it up-loading when it's sexy?  Which means, boys 'n' girls, my berloody computer is going away.  As of tomorrow.  So I'll see you in the next decade.  Have fun, enjoy the Mad Tree Party we set up but have yet to invite anyone to and throw some Marlins on the grill.

Cricket will lend me her fancy-pants computer whilst mine's gone.  But you know how this is.  See you in a week or so, sweeties!