I just had the strangest dream I think I've ever had. I dreamed that my tiny little cow town actually had a solidarity protest for 12/12. About 25 people showed up and paced back in forth while chanting in front of our local B of A.
Since the local-yokel cops around here are not used to anything like that they flipped out and chased us in a figure eight around the two blocks of our downtown, and their cop shop is on the opposite end of the block from the center of town. Yes, that means they chased us right past it. It seems that they are very unclear on the concept of "kettling."
Eventually a bunch of us stood up to them and just sat down in the middle of the central intersection of the central downtown district. I taught them how to link arms and keep their thumbs in. We were perfectly non-violent, and none of us even taunted the cops. Still, it was declared an unlawful assembly. So, they separated us, zip-tied our wrists and walked us down the block to the cop shop.
Now, our cop shop is very, very small. It has only one holding cell where those who are in custody await being taken to the county seat for "real" processing. They process a few people here, but usually it is for some sort of infraction. So, since failure to disperse isn't serious, they S-L-O-W-L-Y processed us and had us wait our turn sitting down in the hallway. Because I have carpal tunnel syndrome and my mother owns our local bail bond company, they allowed me to have my zip-ties in front.
Some file clerk or something had brought her toddler to work that day for some reason and I stopped him from eating fake candy canes on the city hall fake Christmas tree. (Nobody around here complains about stuff like that.) I wasn't supposed to get up, but the cops here aren't so very bound to the "rules" that they would rather someone sat and watched a baby seriously get hurt. So, I found the mother and gave her her child. She was very appreciative-- until she realized I was a *gasp* "dirty hippy protester."
Yes, in case you haven't guessed it, my town is the town that with the demographic at which Fox "News" aims their nonsense. And yes, people here really do fall for that crap hook, line and sinker. I mean, the town is about 30% Mormon, so that should tell you something right there. I fully expect that I'm the only atheist/waffling agnostic in town.
So, once the new Chief of Police arrived I kept asking him to talk to me. I wanted him to just drop the charges against the protesters since we hadn't done anything except yell slogans and sit down in the middle of our version of Main Street, which by the way had no traffic. And if it had have had any, I'm sure the protesters would have moved to one side to let the car pass. Eventually he had to go through the hall and I jumped on my chance. He agreed to drop the charges against everyone else if we would stay out of the street and keep the noise to a minimum. I did a mic check and the protesters agreed.
Then Mr. Chief of Police had an officer put a GPS ankle monitor on me (since I was seen as "the leader,"), patted me on the butt and sent us on our way. Lots of other protesters saw this and there was an audible gasp. After all the new Chief is black (at least in my dream) and I am not. Yeah, that was their problem with what he had done. Hank Williams, Jr. was all kinds of right when he sang, "They're from north California and South Alabam, and little towns all around this land."
He looked around nervously and then quickly went behind a locked door in the police section of the building. So, we were all literally cut loose. A few went back to quietly picket and the rest of us went home.
A friend of mine called me, sick and in pain and asked me if I would take a risk to get her some medicinal marijuana from her co-op. She'd already called ahead and told them I was coming. What could I do but say yes. Debilitating pain is something I understand all too well.
So, her co-op is just at a house with good security in a middle class neighborhood in another, bigger town. So I take care of what I needed to take care of, stashing her stash in the trunk under some coats and blankets. But someone I really wanted to talk to lived right next door.
It would seem that a young man who was well on his way to becoming a south-Asian Mark Zuckerberg A town about 20 minutes south of here has the largest Indian population in the US. Anyway, he and his father were outside. They were talking about his plans to remodel the house he'd grown up in. He'd bought his parents the party pad and he'd taken his childhood home. So, I asked to speak with him and his father kept reminding him that he wasn't getting any younger and that he needed a wife, wink, wink. Never mind the fact that I'm beyond child-bearing age.
Well, it turned out that he was outside talking to his father because he had a crack whore hidden inside the house. After we said goodbye to his father we went inside and I got my first glimpse of his lady of the evening. She thought I was the competition and tried to cause a big scene, but I just shut her outside of the front door and locked it. I pitched him my ideas that he sponsor our high school so that kids could come out of there and either be truly prepared to succeed in college or learn a trade so that they could go into an apprenticeship after graduating. I also proposed that he set up free wi-fi for the town and give all the school kids those nifty little green Linux notebook computers like the ones they give kids in Africa, so they had a real chance at success.
Just as I was getting that all wrapped up the cops showed up. It seems that the crack-ho had called them on me because of my ankle bracelet. She had told them that I was trying to scam the young Mr. Internet Billionaire. He told them that I wasn't trying to rip him off and that he was going to do the things I'd asked him to do, but it didn't matter because I was farther than I was allowed to go. Then they searched my car.
Great. Now I was a multiple offender. No way was I going to talk my way out of it, no matter who said I wasn't doing anything wrong. Just as I was being shoved into the back seat of a squad car and the tow truck was there to pick up my car, even though it was parked legally, I woke up. Oh yeah, and I had to ask to use the bathroom three times in that dream. I think I only woke up because I had to hit the loo.
In spite of all the bad stuff that happened in my dream, I still had a feeling of satisfaction because I'd convinced my new friend to help the kids in my hometown. Mr. Zuckerberg, are you listening?
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