Monday, and how

Feeling depressed and trying to fight it off. Has to do with this ridiculous weather, surely (rainy, pissy, windy, cold, gray) and tax annoyance (blah.)

A combination of other elements may also be contributing to the malaise, but may also lead to its relief: Last night I finished reading A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest Gaines, and it wrecked me. So simple, so powerful, so poignant - a tale of a teacher who spends time with a man unjustly condemned to the electric chair (as if anyone is ever justly condemned to die; but this guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time) in Louisiana in the late 1940s. It's a racist world, in which the defense attorney painted a picture of the black defendant as an unthinking 'hog' in a wild effort to get an aquittal from the all-white jury. But of course that portrait is a brutal blow to the prisoner and his family, who call on the teacher to help him regain his humanity before the fateful day.

The book includes a scene where men in a bar are recounting hero-stories about Jackie Robinson, so it felt like one of those inexplicable confluences that I just happened to finish the book on Jackie Robinson Day, the 60th anniversary of his first game. If you don't know who Jackie Robinson is, well that's a Problem With America, which was part of the point of the day. He was the first African American Major League Baseball player, one of the all-time greats of any color, and a hero by pretty much any definition worth considering. Since he played for the Brooklyn Dodgers, last night's Dodger/Padres game was a huge celebration of the event (and every game that wasn't rained out commemorated him to some degree.) I missed the pre-game stuff (a Brooklyn gospel choir singing 'O Happy Day' and Jennifer Hudson singing the National Anthem, which people were saying were amazing - they're probably out there on YouTube, but I haven't tracked them down) but I caught most of the game. All the Dodgers wore Robinson's number 42 on their uniforms, as did a handful of people throughout the league. And it was really amazing to hear Jackie's widow Rachel - who always calls him 'Jack;' She says "Jackie was his stage name" :) - and the other luminaries. Henry Aaron and Frank Robinson were there talking about race and history and BASEBALL (damn, they love the game) and it was inspiring on so many levels while also a reminder of what is still missing from our culture.

Which made for a one-two punch in combination with the novel. I've spent a good chunk of my activist life opposing the death penalty, which continues to be insanely racist (like much of the 'criminal justice' system.) And in that light, it's important to remember that there is good work to do on so many levels, and that creative work can be a vital part of that.

Even when the weather sucks.