Day Four

Maybe it is the eye of a giant alien Cyclops, wide awake peering down on the Blue Planet, wondering what to do with this watery, windy, wasteful planet…OR maybe it is just the moon. Perhaps it is an Omen filled with prophesies or falsehoods calling and culling the humanoids to wonder and wish…OR maybe it is just the moon. Could it just be an Optical Illusion, we see it then it wanes, it widens and wistfully fades to just a crescent trying its darnedest to persuade all of us to point, ponder, shout ooh’s and ahh’s asking one another did you see that…and indeed it IS just the moon.

In 1933 Eddie DeLange wrote the lyrics to a song titled Moonglow, “…It must have been moonglow way up in the blue, it must have been moon glow that led me straight to you…” My parents, aunts and uncles danced to this tune, some pitched woo, some would return home from some harried day turn on the radio and listen as Benny Goodman and his band sweetly and with great sincerity played this song about the magic of the moon. The magic of the moon, the majesty of its light, the momentum by which we respond to something so simple, something so special, something we know so much about and understand so very little. The moon can glow and it is not the sun…WOW!

The thing about the moon is it is a constant, but it still mesmerizes us when we look at it, of course we all see the moon, but dancing in our brains are millions of ways we interpret what we are looking at. It is like Provincetown, for Joe and I, we know what to expect, but every year our expectations are met, but then something new happens, something old looks different, and once in a while, even though it might have been right in front of our faces, something old is suddenly new. Moonglow, way up in the sky, except when it is in our hearts! Day Four

Day Three

It was in the early 80’s, a group of my colleagues at the JCC were sitting around in our Teen Lounge, it was lunch time and our constituents were still in school awaiting the dismissal bell, and soon would join us at the JCC. Most of my collective staff considered ourselves liberal minded people and most of us were registered democrats. I mean, come on, many would say, we work in communal service profession, we make every effort to make sure any individual can fit into a group (never force them into a group), and we strive for a positive identity as a Jew within the general community…of course we are liberals (somehow the word Progressive hadn’t reached the tip of lips or for that matter nor with the society in which we lived), but I recall clearly the six of us were struggling with a new term, a very certain two word term now being used as an identity…African American.

Trying our best to be liberal, we huffed and we puffed, pontificated about how that identification MAY be necessary, but not quite sure if it was the perfect two word phrase to identify the Black Community. (Oh the privilege of one group to assume what is better for another group). We all agreed that if Blacks wanted to call themselves African Americans then who better then they to say so…BUT, did that also mean from now on there were Irish Americans, Italian Americans, Polish Americans. And even though Jewish is not a nationality should we be called Jewish Americans…or as I mentioned back then, my family is from Ukraine and Romania…should I first identify myself as a Ukrainian American or a Romanian American. We ALL so much wanted to be liberal in our approach, yet ALL of us were not quite convinced that we approved of the term African Americans. (As liberals we were quite ashamed to even make this a question).

Upon the beach in the central area of Provincetown, tucked away in one of the very tiny alley ways, dripping with barnacles, cracked sea shells and a green carpet of seaweed, welcoming you to wade deeper and deeper, Joe and I spied a shell of a ship with a flag waving proudly in the wind. It looked as if the captain might be setting sail toward the Bay, ready for a journey where names no longer mattered, titles useless, and the only identity, human. I am, among the many things in my life, a Gay man.It took almost 40 some years for me to realize that piece of my identity and along the way I had to struggle with too many other unkind words stopping me from appreciating my reality. I recalled hemming and hawing at the term African American back in my day, and as I saw the rainbow flag boasting brightly its colors, I sighed and thought how stupid to worry what I might call someone else. All along my path to discovery all I wanted was to remove the differences and only seek the sameness, between whatever kind of American I was or am.  In Provincetown there is no question, you are who you ae and that is the end of the discussion…it all just flows so smoothly! Day Three

Day Two

A ghost of a chance, I have always wondered how that cliche was created, that WAS until I caught a glimpse of the Provincetown Monument lurking behind the newest batch of spooky October clouds finding their footing in the sky of July. The Provincetown Monument was built between 1907 and 1910, to commemorate the first landfall of the Pilgrims in 1620, and the signing of the Mayflower Compact in Provincetown Harbor. Lots of ghosts, I am sure lurking within the brick and mortar of this building, some who, with the arrival of the Pilgrims had their chances cut short, and some of the Pilgrims, who were brave enough to chance life in the New World, striving for equality, and stressing the urgency for their freedoms. I imagine the Native Americans took the chance, thinking that these people in white skin, sailing in on fine ships could be trusted, and I suppose had the Pilgrims not been warned that the Red Man, not being white, could not be trusted, WOULD have found a partnership. But that is history, and in this nation we some times think that history is like a ghost…is it real or imagined.

Joe and I are sitting having lunch on a gloomy East Coast rainy day, the kind of atmosphere begging for lounging on the sofa and watching some brilliant movies made in black and white, but with Joe and I coming from  LA, gray, dismal, three dimensional clouds bursting at the seams with wet, wild rain is invigorating…and perhaps inspires a tale of ghosts and tales of chance. We sit we watch, we spy the Provincetown Monument almost peering back at us, almost whispering in that monotone hushed sound combined from wind, time and space…”BOO!”

My GrandMa Buncher, a woman of few words once said, “…We are the results of history made by our parents, pointing to herself, she added, “…some more ancient than others…” then finishing her mini lecture added, “…there can be lots to learn from those who have history on their side, but as we grow into our own history we either take the chance to become educated, or the choice to ignore what is right before us. Some people see a ghost they scream they run, some people want to know where did that ghost come from, what can that ghost tell me…” A Ghost of a Chance, sometimes right in front of you, and often times next to you but you might never know it! Day Two

Day One

If it is a vacation, why not indulge, participate in the shenanigans, so sugary sweet, that even looking at them you are sure a cavity is forming. There are cupcakes living in Provincetown oozing with pink icing so thick on top, that at least each one has a double swirl almost calling you as a siren would sailors lost at sea, “Come closer, touch me, now bit by bite finish my butter filled batter, until you fall into a sugar coma. Succumb to your oral cravings smother your tongue with the thickest pink super deluxe topping, and don't stop till all that icky sticky gooey stuff is licked clean from your pinky to your thumb.

We arrived in P-Town, said hello to at least a dozen more people then Joe and I even know In LA. We felt the salt of the sea tickle our eyes and play with the sneeze sensors of our nose. Hand in hand we strolled among the heterosexuals and the homosexuals, those whose sex was not determined, and those to whom gender was not and never an issue. So much to inhale, almost an inebriation, drunk on magic, mystery, mayhem and a full moon.

This place is Joe’s and my sanctuary. Hopefully one day in our lives ALL of us, can lay claim to something so special that the turmoil and tumult of Trump will be meaningless. A place with secrets only to be shared by you and the people you love unconditionally. Day One…

Rainbows

Is it the Rainbow’s end, the origins of the Rainbow, or just the miraculous identity of the colors inside the Rainbow that hold the magic, the mystery, some mayhem and the ability to seek more…Not quite sure, but I am very certain that when a Rainbow is present, we too should be present, so much so to understand just how unique and utterly weird, and wild this piece of nature can become.

It is time, once again for Joe and I to travel to our Neverland, our Oz, our Place Among the Pines, our Grovers Corner, our place in which the two of us become one, in the one place which (sorry Walt Disney) is our happiest place on Earth.

So for today, amidst the the creature named Trump and his Flying Monkeys filled with mischief, his Henchmen full of hate, his Lemmings never satisfied with truth but relishing fiction…so even among all of that, TODAY I will write happy. I have conflict leaving the horror of hypocrisy to continue without being called out…I have conflict, never wanting to EVER have history finding me NOT Resisting a tyrant, a con and an idiot…But Jet Blue awaits, Boston is calling, Cape Air (with only 7 seats) is nagging and of course Provincetown, with arms so wide open is whispering come home already, come home.  So today (of course with lots of nervousness because when I fly i must be the one flying the plane), I am headed away form the immediate danger of dictatorship ready to as the song, goes “Fucking Dance”, my dance of pure joy. See you in my dreams!

  

Oh beautiful

In the Trump Regime the true lyrics for America the Beautiful: Katharine Lee Bates/Gerry Buncher

O beautiful for spacious skies, 

I will make sure we all have the most beautiful skies ever, even God will be jealous, then skies except for the then places where the EPA will cut regulations may be gray, but gray skies are ‘YUGE’ in China

For amber waves of grain,

Climate Change Schlimate Change, Jesus will never fool around with his fathers creation, and any way that grain will not be amber too much longer with all of Monsanto’s magic potion added to it 

For purple mountain majesties 

First of all there is coal, and that is why they are considered majestic in the first place.  And those mountain caps need to be leveled how else can we make America energy independent without fracking

Above the fruited plain! 

Screw California where must of the fruit is harvested, those Progressives are nothing but immigrant lovers and we need to punish anyone who had dissed Trump. No Agri-Biz dollars for them.

America! America! 

AMERIKA, AMERIKA

God shed his grace on thee 

Cruze, Perry, Bachmann, Huckabee, just to name a few thought God spoke to them, I know God better than anyone, he took a membership out at Mar-A-Largo, and all his Pay to Pray salesmen told me God choses me.

And crown thy good with brotherhood 

The Aryan Brotherhood to be exact or maybe the KKK of just the Neo Nazi’s and one of the three is good enough.

From sea to shining sea! 

Yep, after my change in EPA regulations and pulling out of the Paris Accord those seas will become even closer to God’s real country Middle America

I am a proud American, and I will be loud and continuous in my contempt for a man who has stolen an election, who is propped up by a Republican Party whose leadership is being blackmailed by Putin and a Regime so strict that Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin are taking notes. America The Beautiful may still have a chance to survive, but not as long as the majority of its citizens remain silent. Its not a Progressive/Liberal/Democrat thing it is truly a Patriotic ideal to speak up against tyranny/anarchy/lies/ buffoonery. Happy 5th of July!

July 4, 2017

Images of red and white with touches of blue will float freely on our televisions. Men and women in uniform will be witnessed standing with valor. Of course a hint of apple pie, perhaps baseball and a few picket fences will highlight the breezy blue skies, and the golden grains of sand which flow freely in a nation once known for freedom. I am sure the guy the Russians elected will Tweet, pretending that under his dictatorship, oops, I mean regime, oops again, his administration all is well on that city on the hill. Or he will will Tweet that if not for something he did over 200 years ago, we would not be celebrating the Fourth of July! And for many who have never studied American History, or for those whose school districts mainly rely on the Old or New Testament’s for factual historical relevance, or those who think the entire Constitution was a Liberal Atheist plot or re-written propaganda, many will believe that God, (not any God mind you, but Jesus, and not any Jesus mind you but the guy who talked Ted Cruze, Rick Perry, Newt Gingrich to run for president) and Trump are the real reasons we can continue to live in a nation carrying our AK-47’s GLOCKS, anti aircraft bombs on our shoulders, oops I meant muskets. For many this holiday is just a reminder that our Founding Fathers (the ladies of course were just for that baby making thing) founded this country as a Christian nation, (again, not any kind of Christian nation but the kind of hate filled Christian nation where if you pay to pray to the likes of Jerry Falwell Jr, Pat Robertson, Joel Osteen, and the venerable Communist sympathizer Franklin Graham) you will be saved.

Flags will waved to honor the history of this nation, but among those flags will be a special kind of Patriot they of course will sing God Bless America but their God is blessing that part of America which waged war, the South, Their red, whit and blue flags will have stars and bars. Or the ESPECIALLY proud patriot Americans will wave ye another kind of flag, the red and white will be seen but the added color of black with a swastika for good measure, will fly high as these patriots throw in a good Seig Heil! These patriots will tell you that not only was this nation a Christian nation but a pure white country, a place where the superior race could, again, under the guise of Jesus, enjoy the fruits of slavery, and the destruction of any other race daring to call themselves Americans.

I among my many virtues happen to be an American. I grew up in the 50’s and we were Right with Ike, we were the Superior nation, we did in deed promise prosperity for everyone, except FOR the not so nice loose ladies…light in loafer's men…sinister women…the Help, (aka) The Colored…Juan and Juanita…the money lenders’ (aka the Jews)…and so many more who were never really listed in the Constitution as having any rights. I among my many virtues am still an American, and I believe in this nation, and I am PISSED as hell the Republican Majority in Congress and those Republicans who voted them into power somehow think all is well. I will Pledge Allegiance, sing the National Anthem because i believe all men and women are created equal…but i know the people in power, on this July 4, 2017 could care less!