Help Fund A Minnesota Movie

You can help. There'll be info at the end. But first, the who/what/why.

http://www.theuptake.org/    You may never have heard of The Uptake. Or thought you hadn't. It is an amazing example of citizen journalism, so good they are the only non-commercial media allowed in the state capitol building, even having their own room next to those TV and radio outlets. Better than any of them, they are filming all the time, and broadcasting on line. Sometimes they are the only media on a story. You get the whole story, not just the 10 second sound bites. If it's politically important, they are there.

Remember the Franklin/Coleman recount battles, which kept Al Franken out of the Senate for 8 months? The Uptake was the only media there the whole time, showing the world how the count was going, assuring all of us who cared that everything was legitimate, showing us how the ballots were counted or rejected. They are non-profit. Yes, they live off donations.

They have a project in mind. They wish to make a documentary movie, using film they've shot in the legislature and at rallies, etc., showing how Minnesota went from the proposal to put anti-gay marriage into the state constitution to the actual legality of such marriages starting this week. Most of the footage is already in their archives. There will be weddings and interviews to shoot, and editing. The goal is a 90 minute documentary, which they want to send to the film festivals, and hopefully get picked up on TV. With so little left to do, the cost of the finished project is about $21,000.

We can help. They have put the project on KickStarter, a website where small contributions from a lot of people fund projects. Nobody will be charged if the money isn't raised by the September deadline. You can pick the amount of your donation. The financial part is actually handled by Amazon.com with all their security guarantees. And if you like, a $50 donation will get you a copy of the movie on DVD once it's finished. $100 can get a T-shirt added. They won't turn up their noses at smaller donations. Or bigger, either.

At the bottom is the link to their site. Please check it out. Donate. Spread the word on your own social media sites. Tell your friends. Let's show the world what Minnesota did.


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"Hot Wire Guy" Returns

Silly me, to believe telling somebody that they have the wrong number will actually bring an end to communication. Even the second time.

The first time, Wednesday evening, I sent that info just before I turned off the Blackberry. Thursday morning once I turned it on again, the reply waiting for me assured me that "he' (I'm guessing) knew I was coming over. However much I hoped he was holding his breath waiting for me - well, for whomever he thought I was - to show up, he survived long enough to start texting me again this afternoon. I recognized the number.

"I need you now"

Yeah, I'll just bet you do. I can come up with several ways you might mean that, buddy, but would you freak if you knew you were waiting for a card-carrying member of the Medicare set? (Yes, my card arrived, can use it in 35 days.) But I don't feel like explaining all that to a stranger.

"This is still a wrong number. You do get that, right?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Good luck finding the real number you're looking for."

I'm trying to be polite, heaven knows why. Training, I guess. Mom would be proud. But good, now I can get back to work. But as soon as I think that, the red light blinks again.

"Come on over now."

How dim is this bulb? Come over? Yeah, to where? Nevermind, I'm not budging,  even if I knew. It is so-o-o not going to happen. Maybe I need to be more direct.

"What part of wrong number don't you understand? Trying to be polite, but PLEASE GO AWAY."

I waited. Nothing. Flipped back over to the work app, and... blink. blink. blink. Now what?

"I sorry"

Voicemail Follies Redux

It's actually gotten crazier, though I've had the work Blackberry for nearly 10 months now. I'm still getting calls for the last owner of this number, wrong numbers, weird messages, and all kinds of odd communications meant for others. Last night I received a request to help with a hot wire job. This morning a collection agency left a message for Victor. It was time for a new answer message:

"Hi, you've reached Heather's work phone. I am not Victor, and I don't owe anybody money. I am not the person handling Ben's medical appointments. I am not coming over to help you hot wire a car. And I am not Bree, who was so-o-o not into your drunken sexual invitation that she passed off a bogus number to get rid of you.

I said this is my work phone. If I'm working, I'm driving, so I'm not going to answer this. If I'm not working, it's off. The ringer is off anyway. If you are somebody I know and want to talk to, you have my personal cell number. Call me there. Or you can text me here, and in a few hours or days when I notice I have a text, I'll get back to you. After all that, if you still want to leave voicemail here, I'll just assume you are too stupid to learn, and won't call you back anyway."

But if it's entertaining enough, I may blog about it and make fun of you.

I wonder if the cops would like that hot-wire phone number.

What You Asked For

The national discussion continues on race. Following President Obama's comments on being followed while shopping because he is black, I've listened to many others call in to the radio shows I listen to and echo that experience, and many others, generally with strong feelings attached.

One added a little irony to his comment. While a store clerk was following him around, watching him like a hawk to see what he was going to steal, he in turn was watching a pair of white teens shoplift whatever they could get their hands on. Needless to say, they weren't caught.

I'd say the store personnel got exactly what they were asking for.

Well, OK, One More Thing...

Despite the overkill on royal baby news, there was one comment today that is worth passing on. It was attributed to Comedy Central - no program, no person, just the network. Since I only heard it, and that being hours ago, the best I can do is paraphrase:

The baby is eight pounds, or about $12. U.S.

Pomp and Circumcision

OK, it's a boy, maybe a king in 60 years or so. We have length of labor, birth weight, analysis of notification protocols, everybody healthy, man-on-the-street interviews, reporters interviewing reporters. We're still drowning in the coverage. So give us a name and go away. Enuff said. Seriously.

Peace

It's hard to come by these days, particularly on the large scale. So I've learned to love it in tiny pieces when it comes. Saturday I finally got my fishing license for this season. Yesterday afternoon I joined Steve and some of his family sitting along the banks of the St. Croix River to drown some worms.

We'd all been hearing about the great fishing once water levels dropped from this wet spring and early summer. That meant the shore along a public access south of Taylors Falls was exposed, allowing one to drive down the ramp and park next to the water so those with wobbly legs can have a very short walk to set up a chair along the shore, along with all the tackle, poles, coolers, etc. There's plenty of parking back along the top of the ramp once the car is unloaded, if you want to avoid the National Park Rangers who chase cars off the shore after a quick license check. Having one fisherman along with sturdy legs is a bonus.

Once set up, there's plenty of watching to do. There's people, boat and dog watching, particularly on nice-weather weekends, as this is a popular landing. The most interesting was a homemade catamaran rigged with two canoes and platform pieces across the top, graced with deck chairs, and one adorable Westie in a life jacket with a carry handle on top. Most of those arriving for pullout late afternoon had the sense and courtesy to pull in on the other side from us, but one set of kayakers pulled up to shore right next to us after cutting across our lines. We thought we had set up way out of the traffic lanes, but there are always idiots out there.

There's plenty of bird watching, including herons, turkey vultures, osprey and eagles, along with smaller birds defying identification. A barred owl could be heard  across the river along with local dogs. Had we stayed later, coyotes would have been likely.

The riverboat out of Taylors Falls passes by but stays on the far side of the river in deeper water.

And of course, there are the fish. Red horse suckers, channel cats, and bluegills got hooked on  our rigs yesterday. The previous night's fishing also brought in small sturgeon. By reports, all Saturday night's fish were much larger than anything caught Sunday - but that's always the way with fish tales. I wouldn't dream of suggesting there was any exaggeration going on, but the one picture I did see was fish, line, and background, with absolutely nothing to show scale.

A couple peaceful turtles hung out for a closer look, one tiny, and one huge and close enough to see the top of its shell emerging from the water and a detailed look at the texture of whatever was growing on it, while the standing members of the group got a good look at the submerged portions.

So with all that activity, you might be wondering where was the peace? It was in the pleasant weather, the shade on our side of the river slowly stretching across and up the trees  on the opposite bank, the silence between boaters, the reflections in the gently flowing water, the sunset colors in a few clouds obligingly showing up for the occasion, the nearly full moon rising behind the trees, and the great company.