Monday, June 9, 2014
I am not going to Sacramento. The Occupy national gathering next month is in a familiar place. Attending would renew my interest in the movement I say I mourn for. I know the route, well, most of it and I can look up the directions where the signage isn't clear and twice or thrice I went way out of my way. I know the every-hour rest stops. I think I can drive that far. There's an Embassy Suites within walking distance of the meeting park. I have reward points. There is availability. I can visit with Jennifer and Catherine. Well, maybe I can't drive. I can take Amtrak. I can take the over-the-hill bus and Amtrak. I can wheel my suitcase. I can walk to the Santa Cruz stop and I can walk from the Sacramento stop. But it will be 100 in the daytime. I will need my cart for water and what not. I can FedEx my stuff and only take the cart on the bus and train. Meetings will be in the evenings. I will be in bed and miss out. Meetings will be loud and jostling. I will not be heard. Meetings will be recriminatory. I will be sad. There will be oppression. Maybe danger. Will there be vision? Will there be hope? I will punish myself for caring and organizing to go with the disappointment if there are not results and connections. The hardships outweigh the maybes. I am not going to Sacramento.