sǝuoſ ǝuıɥsunS | notebook, journal, inter-web log

In 1965 Lyndon Johnson proclaimed the birth of the great society. The aims were the elimination of poverty and racial injustice. Additionally, several major initiatives for the advancement of education, health, urban problems, transportation, consumer protection, and the environment were launched. Johnson stood in the shadow of John F. Kennedy, and drew from his New Frontiers programs, which were, themselves, reflections of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal. These were socialist movements in American Politics. Movements from which the greatest things in America have stemmed. Because of these programs, we rose up out of the ashes of the depression, and the terrific toll which world war II had taken on the entire world.

Later in the year Canada adopted their new red and white flag featuring a beautiful, red maple leaf at its center, Gambia was granted her independence from the United Kingdom, the first wave of combat troops were sent to South Viet Nam, and Malcom X was assasinated. By March 3,500 US Marines shipped out for Viet Nam, 525 civil rights demonstrators survived Bloody Sunday, and after 13 days of freedom Goldie the eagle was recaptured by the London zoo.

April, May and June brought the opening of the Houston Astrodome (then named the Harris County Domed Stadium of Houston,) Racing driver Jim Clark wins the Indianapolis 500, “Slash,” Saul Hudson, the guitarist formerly with Guns N’ Roses and Slash’s Snakepit was born, and Freddie Mills, former British boxing champion, is found shot in his car in Soho.

But on July 15th, 1965 I was born.

Ten days later, Bob Dylan goes electric. Twenty one days later the voting act is signed into law. In the following months Sandy Koufax pitches a parfect game, Fidel Castro announces that everybody who wants can immigrate to USA, In St. Louis, Missouri, the 630-foot-tall parabolic steel Gateway Arch is completed, US racer Craig Breedlove sets a new land speed record of 600.601 mph, Ferdinand Marcos becomes President of the Philippines, and Tokyo is proclaimed the world’s largest city.

Times are tough these days. Lots of pain, wild emotions which require my constant care and attention. Meditation and prayer are the theme of all my days. I focus on my work, my son, and take little refuge. Living in the city I love best in the world helps a lot, so do my beautiful and beloved friends.

I have no plans for today. I may see my brother later tonight, but he’s not sure he can make it. I may see my son for a couple of hours, but that’s not set in stone either. Matt is coming over at 11am to do some work with me, and anything else is up for grabs. I think it will be a beautiful day. I am so grateful for my life and everything in it. I was a boy in 1979 who had no plans to live past 21. That was twenty years ago. Every breath I take is a blessing, every friend I make is a little piece of the universe passing through my heart. These are the days when one might be tempted to begin the occupation of counting such mysterious blessings. Not this man-at-arms, this Souldus lubhyati, no sir. I know that as soon as I focus my eyes, and swipe my arms together in hopes of collecting all the blessings I’ve recieved they’ll flit away in the breeze I’ve created. And while nothing so beautiful can stay for long, I think I’ll just stay right here, trying not to breathe, and gaze at them fondly a little while longer.

Beautiful day without you Royksopp