New Paltz Nation - unrestinnewpaltz

The New Paltzers* are restless. Well at least some of them are restless enough about the war to be out in the pouring rain on the corner of Main Street and North Front St. in front of the Elting Library. Pouring that is until it turns torrential for a few moments and walls of water come down off their umbrellas. There is a shout and I turn to see my idiot dog Andrew who has snuck out of the house and is following me across Main Street in the storm even though he hates water. I jump back into the street and leash him with my camera strap, rushing him to the safety of the library bench. Barbara Upton, who looks rather striking and sophisticated is the spokesperson for these intrepid Women in Black. She has been standing out there for 6 years with a band of sign carrying women who have been there nearly every week since the US bombing of Afghanistan rain or shine. They hand out a leaflet that Barbara has written called “Waking Planet Chronicles.” She has written one nearly every month since November of 2002. She has a website Waking Planet where you can check them out them by clicking “newsletter.”

Afterwards they all meet at Starbucks. I bring Andrew in and don’t order anything. It’s about the war today, and the next day and the next day until it is over.

I try to interview Barbara with my fuzzy cantankerous voice recorder. I shouldn’t have bothered. I should have relied on a pen. Now of course there is a new war for the women to decry. They decry the war by standing silently with their signs week after week, or by speaking out whenever they can, or by both, but they do it. Barbara and her friends are very upset by the US support of Israel’s invasion of Lebanon, especially Isreael’s use of cluster bombs. While it is mostly the men who order the killing and obey the orders, and get killed themselves, it is mostly the women who understand the suffering enough to want to eliminate war. In order to end war you stop killing people. It’s called a “cease fire.” What part of that is too tough for Hillary?

Then it was off to Rosendale for the anti-war protest and the fair where I was supposed to be petitioning. Rosendale is easy --they’re Rosendalians (which include some of the nicest New Paltz ex-patriats). Jack Smith has organized this protest at the gates to the fair. There are around 20 people there. They are cheerful and engaged. I talk to Fred Nagle with my horrible fuzzy voice recorder. He is very concerned about the war and refers me to his website. The level of public outrage is egregiously low for the degree of criminality in our government, and the crucial problem is how to get young people more involved in trying to set things straight. The protest was called at the last minute in response to the recent invasion of Lebanon.

Nobody at the festival wanted to complain openly about the lack of environmental consciousness because the festival was so damn fun, and because there was such a big crowd, and so many people had worked so hard to put it on. Considering all the diesel generators and all the deep fried food, it would have been nice to just power the generators with fry grease. Maybe next year J. There were a few buckets that had signs on them which said “recycling” but people had thrown half eaten hot-dogs with ketchup and mustard and white oblong hot-dog buns on paper plates. This would have been just fine if there had been goats roaming the fair, but as it was they wouldn’t even allow dogs. I’d had to saunter in with Andrew by a back street left him with a very nice elderly lady, and then tie him to a tree. Rebecca Rotzler and Malachy McCourt were there petioning hard to get the Greens on the ballot so I didn’t feel a guilty about running around and trying to get out of there because my daughter needed a ride somewhere ASAP and I didn’t know where my car was because I had let my friend park it and couldn’t find him either and my cell phone kept losing service and then the battery died. The music was really great, and there were so many varieties. People were out dancing in the streets and drinking. I had a Hurricane Kitty to settle my stomach.

These guys call themselves Steel and Beast. They were very shy, but I managed to get them to pose for a picture

These people could not tell me what “Patroon Grange” was or why they were there raising money but they said that they knew someone who did, he just wasn’t there at the moment. They were clearly enjoying themselves

On our way out he spent some time with me in what was billed on the outside as a “Dumb Art Show.” The art was anything but dumb. It spoke to me because it was fun. There were paintings of giant clouds and coffee cups and enigmatic figures on towels. The police silently escorted a teenager out. Shirtless, his hands were cuffed behind his back and an officer had a hand on each of his slender arms. I followed closely behind. them with Andrew, figuring that they’d be so focused on the kid they wouldn’t bust my chops for the dog. I ended up in a half finished house on a cliff

A week went by and I had no time for blogging. The SUNY administration unwisely rejected Justin's 22 page appeal and so it was on to the lawyers who marveled at the disregard for justice, the constitution, and due process with which, it is apparent, the administration has been handling student judicial proceedings. The meeting went on for so long that I was very late for Tasini’s speech at the Village Hall.

I rushed home, grabbed a clip board and a pen and scrambled with my keys as Andrew shot through my legs across the street and was let into the building by a village employee on her way out. “Now you got me in trouble” I said to her as I trudged up the stairs, late, knowing that half the people there would know it was my dog and the other half would find out when I picked him up and carried him out the door. I went back in time for what I thought was his rousing finale, but later found out was his answer to the fist question. I sat next to Hector Rodriguez to try to salvage my reputation. I poked him because he’s just that kind of legislator. Tasini was so articulate and intelligent. It really is a shame that he doesn’t have a chance.

For many of the people there the Q&A portion (which I stayed for an hour of but then had to go to bed) is an opportunity for them to speak, some of them at considerable length, about their lives, their pet issues, their beliefs, books they’ve read: you name it. Most of the people in the room were around 60 or 70 but there were a few middle-aged people like me and some youngsters. It was a kind of forum for people to listen to each other and that was so nice, like an old fashioned town hall, people spoke their minds and it mattered to everyone else. There were a lot of elderly Jewish people who expressed their dismay with the way the Israelis have treated the Palestinians. This was very touching. The economics of war, the evils of colonialism, the need for alternative energy and transportation; there was a great mix of inspiring common sense and senseless rambling on a variety of topics. Unfortunately in overwhelming numbers voters will choose Hillary over Tasini in the primaries even though they do not support the war.

Once Tasini loses the primary, he concurs that the Democrats who really support peace should all vote for Howie instead of Hillary. Why do so few of us vote with our conscience for an anti-war candidate, even now? How could we ever let there be such a disconnect between what we vote for and what we want? It’s so counter-intuitive and counter-productive.

It’s not like we’re re-electing Bush here for those of you who still believe that except that we’re going to get stuck with a Bush supporter, Hillary Clinton, whether we like it or not. I’m so glad that there are brave people like Tasini and Howie to try and stop a goliath like Hillary from sticking us and keeping us in an expensive useless bloody war. Is our situation anything like Horton Hears a Who but we’re the only ones shouting so far? I’m not sure who is analogous to the benevolent elephant. I guess that depends on whether or not you believe in God.

*OK so what do you want me to call us people who call New Paltz their home? I don’t like new Paltzonians, it sounds too stuffy. New Paltzish is ok except that the suffix ‘ish” aside from its negative connotations when used alone, now has come to mean ‘not quite” I like the more augmentative connotations of “er” as in we’re more “new paltz” than people who don’t live here. Also it honors the Germanic origins of the word which would be the “Pfaeltzers”

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