It Was Joyous

The sun was out and I was here to protest in it, at 8am. 

By definition, it was a good day.

By the time I left at 9:30 there were people around the corner, out of site.

This is the entrance to the community that protests every Saturday.  

Their usual dozen or so had swelled to many many dozens.

I left and collected TBG and we drove up to Oro Valley.  

He usually lets me represent the family, but this event hit him differently.

"Numbers matter and I care."

The crowd was a little younger (not much) and a lot more boisterous.  

I didn't chant in the 1970's and I didn't chant yesterday.  

I did wave my sign(s).

Having held placards at these events before, I created a self-standing unit to lean upon.

Yes, they are garden stakes.  They, as well as the Camus quote, attracted a lot of attention.

I learned another lesson.  

20 year old scrapbooking adhesives do not live up to their name.  I spent the first protest sticking the stripes back onto the posterboard; I taped them down before we took off again.

There were flamingos and frogs and a turtle or two.  There were many chickens.

The signs were not hateful, nor were the t-shirts.  A new friend, Paul, stopped and chatted with TBG for a while.  As always, it was a friendly, happy crowd.

This was the most original sign all day.

We left, TBG carrying his watching-the-kids-play-sports chair and the giant red, white, and blue pinwheel, I dragging my sign and our water.  It's exhausting work, protecting democracy.   But as I looked at my husband's smiling face I realized that I had not led hinm astray when I told him it would be fun.  It was joyous.