Progress Pond

Accidental Activist: Full Bloom


I got home last night at about 8:00 p.m.  I was worn out.  I didn’t realize how much sun there had been until I saw my face in the mirror.  Rock-lobster red.  I like it that way.  But I didn’t drink enough in my day on the picket line.  And I came home limping.  Honestly.  I’m kind of hobbling around this morning still.  But feeling pretty good.

Whatever you all did yesterday helped put on a pretty powerful little protest.  I don’t know how you all managed to get the PFP diary onto the list at DailyKos, but I think that had a big impact.  I’ll give you the rundown below the flip.

Thanks for the flowers.  The ones you sent to me.  Those are a real pick-me-up when you are out there.  You people are too good.  Dang it, I hope someone is listening to us.
This is from an e-newsletter I am writing for PFP.  It gives the gist of how things went:

Yesterday’s event went great.  I just wanted to give you all a quick update.

NUMBERS

Too many to count with precision.  I am not the Rainman.  I can’t look at a box of spilled matches and guess the exact number.  But together, you delivered so many flowers yesterday, that I am unable to give you an exact count.  I can only estimate.

My educated guess is that we delivered between 350 to 500 flowers.  I’m going to stick to the lower estimate.  Though it could be even higher than my estimated range.  Here is how I get to the total.  Bancrofts sold out of carnations, and had to start selling other varieties.  They said they did about 200 flowers.  The UAW delivered another ten dozen, from a different florist.  So that is 320.  Plus they had collected another $50 that they didn’t spend — for future Petals for Peace events.  Loads of people brought wonderful flowers from their gardens.  Or from other shops.  And a series of blog articles I wrote drew over one-hundred comments.  People indicating they were faxing pictures of flowers.  In some cases they indicated they were making multiple faxes to various offices including Schwarz and Rogers.  I think 350 is a conservative estimate.

That means, on average, we delivered a flower every 1 to 2 minutes.  All day long.  Of course.  Many times they arrived in great dumps.  Which I will describe below.

Give yourself a round of applause.  That was awesome.  We have delivered about 850 flowers over the course of seven days.  Probably closer to 1,000.  But we’ll just use the conservative estimate.  That is a lot of flowers.

SCHWARZ

By most accounts, the staff at Joe Schwarz’s office in Lansing were great.  Very polite.  Kind to children.  Respectful (if not downright sympathetic) to our message of peace.  I’m told that flower deliveries started early at his office.  The staff arrived to find a potted plant on their steps and perhaps another delivery, before our letter explaining the protest arrived.  So they weren’t sure what was going on at first.  But it was explained.  And I understand that they treated everyone pretty well all day.  Our last delivery of the day was made at close to 5:00 p.m.  And I’m told that they had our flowers on display.  One arrangement that was sent, along with a large vase that was crammed with flowers.  It was estimated that about 50 flowers got delivered there during the course of the day.  Well beyond our initial estimates.

Someone did fall down on the job.  We missed a scheduled delivery in one hour.  And that infamous individual was. . . ME!  I couldn’t get away from Rogers’ office.  The peace car (or the peace mini-van, in this case) was packed with signs.  I couldn’t move it from its prime parking spot.  A contingency I did not foresee.  But thank you for picking up the slack with all those deliveries you made during the day.

Meanwhile, at Rogers’ office, things were not quite as nice as flowers on a spring morning. . . .

ROGERS

Around mid-morning, Rogers’ staff decided that our protest was becoming too burdensome.  They placed a bucket in the office foyer.  Above it they posted a sign, directing us to put the flowers in the bucket.

People kept on taking the flowers to the receptionist though.  Presenting them for Rogers.  Asking for peace.  She stopped taking the flowers, sending people back out to the foyer.  Where the flowers found their last resting place.  The explanation.  Someone in the office was allergic to flowers.  But we kept it up.

In late morning, a staff person came out and told us that we could no longer deliver flowers to the desk.  There is no other way to put this.  She was rude.  She said they were busy conducting important constituent business inside, and that we were interrupting.  I let her know that we were constituents.  And that we thought our business was important.  And that I’d pass her message along to those who would come to deliver.  But I let her know that I didn’t agree.  That I thought constituents ought to be able to at least deliver their flower to the desk.  To give their message to the representative.  She said that we would have to make an appointment.  That people would only get to the desk to deliver letters or cards.  I asked if we could still come in and write constituent notes — on forms that they routinely provide to everyone.  She said no.  They already knew what our message was.

From that point on, we tried to make sure that people wrote a quick note to go with their flower.  So they could still go inside.  And people continued to try to go inside.  But soon afterward, they locked the door to the lobby.  The people — at least those people opposed to the war — were cut-off from their representative.  The office door would open from time to time.  For constituents with appointments.  Or for staff to come and go.  Sometimes, it appeared that they forgot to re-lock the door, and a few flowers would slip by.  I made it in during one of these times, and did get a constituent note-form.  And wrote Rogers about being denied access to his office.  While I was there, Jack S. delivered his potted plant to the table I was writing at.  And the flower delivery person from Bancrofts came in with a few dozen and dumped them on an unattended desk.  And she had a special delivery of flowers for me.  From a blogger.  Thanks tampopo and SallyCat.  Very cool.

But for at least half the hours of the day, by my estimate, the doors were locked to us.  It didn’t feel all that democratic to me.  And for the record.  Since PFP has started, we have made three written requests to meet with Rogers.  All followed by phone requests to get a meeting.  So far.  Nada.

WHERE FLOWERS GO TO DIE

The flowers piled up in the foyer.  And the notes.  It looked cool.  Judith B. got a photo I think.  I hope we might share it at some point.  They were kind of blocking the entrance at one point, right after the union delivery.  I saw the security person come out and push them aside.  And scoop up the notes, crumpling them as he did.  And disappear.

Late in the day, Kathie K. had a good thought.  She cares about living things — go figure.  First, their was first aid.  She noticed that Rogers staff hadn’t put any water in the bucket they had put out.  So we got the plants some water.  Next, she wanted to rescue them all at the end of the day.  Thinking that these flowers were destined for a dumpster, or similar fate.  And she wasn’t alone in this thinking.  But I kind of nixed the idea.  I didn’t want to un-deliver them from Rogers.  This is a symbolic act.  He can take our flowers for what they’re worth.  Take our good will.  Take our prayers for peace.  And he can let them die.  He can throw them away.  Or he can act.

I just couldn’t let them take the flowers away from him.  Ball’s in his court now.

COOL FLOWERS

There were some great flowers delivered.  I’m no botanist.  I don’t know the names.  But they were beautiful.  Many from gardens.  I guess the homegrown ones are the best.  What a sacrifice.  To grow such beautiful things.  And lay them down in a strange place.  Knowing they are fated to die.  Though I think our action in peaceful.  And I love it.  You can’t escape the metaphor of war.  What are we doing with our sons and daughters?  What are we doing to the young in Iraq?  This is an ugly garden.

Judith B. gave up a wonderful garden flower.  And Janet L. brought exquisite purple delicate things.  So many.  All colors.  Sizes.  Fragrances.  Quite lovely.

Mary Kaye delivered a dozen dead roses.  She asked for permission.  And I surely wasn’t going to dissuade her.  A rather potent message, I think.  She got in when the doors were open.  And delivered right to the unmanned front desk.

There were cool faxes too.  I’ll try to send out some pictures later today.  I don’t know if it will work.  I’m not very technically savvy.  But the blogging world, and others, have created some cool images that were flying around the world of bits and bytes.

ALL-DAY

I got there at 5:41 a.m.  And I still didn’t get the best parking spot.  I was bested by a nurse who comes in at 3:00 a.m.  (I got her space when she left for work — she supports peace).  I set up the peace mini-van.  Signs galore.  I unloaded my bike, and set off to get Mike a birthday card at the QD.

Wrote him a nice note.  Asked him to help stop the war.  Went and got a cup of great coffee.  Got waited on like a prince, by a coffee expert.  Lectured about acidity.  And full-body.  I can’t remember the terminology.  But the coffee was exquisite.  Ended up with an Ethiopian bean.  Delicious.  Felt quite pampered.  Biked around.  And then went to get started.

Carried a sign alone for a while.  Until Janet A. showed up.  She was the catalyst for the all-day thing.  And I was happy to see her walking up early in the morning.  Wasn’t long before Gary D. was there.  The man who started the whole Rogers thing.  And soon enough, there was a merry little band.  A great day-time turnout over the first hours of the protest and on into the afternoon.  There were a few slow times.  But it was good.  Ended up with about twenty-five people from 4-6 p.m.  I was a bit tired out.  And the group milled about in the heat.  But it was cool to see a lot of people wanting the same thing.

Spent a good chunk of time talking with a dedicated public servant, Lynne M.  A legislator who cared about people as she represented us.  She reflected about the good time in her political career — those times when she was able to do good for real people.  Regular people.  I’m pretty cynical about politics these days.  But listening to her was refreshing.  She assured me that we can all do good.  You don’t have to be a legislator.  We’ve all got a role to play.  Heartening.  And though I don’t know that she would ever have any interest, I sure would be honored to again cast a vote in her direction some day.

Late in the morning (I think — I got a bit tired/loopy out there — too much sun), a young man from Michigan State came up.  A blogger.  He’d heard about our protest on DailyKos.  A really big blog.  And that was cool.  He was coming to deliver a flower in person.  And word that the event had made it to DailyKos’s recommended list, which meant there were probably a lot of faxes going in.  I suspect that might have had something to do with the ill-treatment we received.  His visit really lifted my spirits.  Thanks spartan68.

CAUSE AND EFFECT

Had a couple of bad moments on the picket line.  Someone backed into Gary’s car.  Really creased it.  It was unintentional.  But it was a bummer.  Because Gary wouldn’t have been there at that time if we hadn’t called an all-day picket.

And then late in the day, I just happened to look up, out across the street, in time to see a biker get clipped by a vehicle pulling out onto the road.  She (the biker) went down hard.  We ran over.  She was a little shocked.  Badly scraped.  But mostly okay.  She got checked out by EMTs.  Police were called.  Tough young woman.  Eventually rode away from the scene with a big shoulder bandage.  And this was no small tumble she took.  And the place where the accident was situated made me wonder.  It was a good ways up the road and across the street.  But still.  Did the driver get distracted looking at us?  Our signs.  Or was the biker glancing over at us, distracted enough so that she was unable to maneuver away from the car?

Your actions.  They have effects.  Long chains of effects.  Bush.  And war.  And protests.  And random acts involving great pain.  Lots of pain going on in this world.

THANKS

Thank you to all who came out.  Who faxed.  Blogged.  Wrote.  Talked.  Laughed.  Delivered.  Phoned.  Thanks to Bancrofts.  The peace community loves them.  And they love the peace community.  You all have treated them well.  Thanks to those that whiled away the hours picketing.  Talking makes the time go by.  Let us hope that these efforts have some small impact.  On our leaders.  Ends this war sooner rather than later.  Save lives.

Next round of picket for peace will be tentatively set for Friday, July 7, 2006.  That is the Independence Day Congressional recess.  Another chance to tell him how we feel.  I’ll make sure I get a packet of antihistamine for the poor soul in Rogers’ office who is allergic.  We should be able to achieve peace and clear nasal passages.  Pencil in this date, and I’ll give you more updates later.  Thanks again.

Terry Olson
(for those in the blogging world — BostonJoe)

Thank you frog pond.  Thanks to every one of you.  On every lillypad.

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