While cooking dinner, my doorbell rang. I predicted another young person, probably a college-aged girl, asking for signatures for a petition and probably money. I got it almost right. Almost.

“Hi.” said a college-aged girl. Suddenly addressing a blind person probably throws most of these people off guard. They don’t know quite how to deal with it. She introduced herself, and a few seconds later so did a guy with her. They had come to collect signatures for a petition. For some time now, Swarthmore College has wanted to build a hotel. This would give parents a place to stay, as well as supply the town’s economy with money. It seems they have a little problem though.

Founded by quakers, Swarthmore has remained a dry town. You cannot purchase a drop of alcohol within the borough’s borders. Now the college wants to build a hotel which will serve alcohol. They have attempted to get a special regulation allowing them to do this while the rest of the town remains dry. The petition seeks to put the question on the ballot in May whether Swarthmore should remain totally dry or totally permissive. They made the argument that the college should not have a special right and I agree.

I don’t drink. I think it makes people act stupid, and prefer not to hang around people drinking. Some may then find it puzzling that I would sign such a petition. I must stick to my libertarian principles here. Even though I do not drink, I fully support other people’s right to do so. I just ask for the same in return. I also support the true free market.

Of course, it also gives one a way to thumb their nose at Swarthmore College and its bureaucracy. Mind you, they have pissed off locals many times before this. They held up the Blue Route for twenty years, and built a parking lot over a field which I played on as a child. I can still remember my brother and I, probably around age seven and nine, going over and singing protest songs, which we made up on the spot. Once again they have flexed their muscle. Will they succeed?

After I made these mental decisions, I stuck out my hand as an indication I wanted to pick up the pen and sign. The girl seemed right on, but I suspect the guy may have started drinking already, perhaps to help ward off the cold February night. Having campaigned for Ron Paul in 2008, I know a drunken activist when I see one. He slowly lifted up the clipboard and I picked up the pen. “Oh…. uhh do you need assistance?” he asked. I indicated that I did. “Here sign right……here….” He moved the pen around. I figured good enough and started scribbling my signature. “Try to keep it horizontally on the line.” he said, sounding a little surly. That kind of pissed me off, but it did support my theory. I do well enough to make the signature in the first place.

I asked if they actually wanted to print my name. I gave it, and my street address. After I gave the house number and street, he paused expectantly. “Swarthmore. Pennsylvania.” his female friend helpfully suggested. We both started laughing. I think she knew. After arduously getting down my info, I asked if they had anything online. SHe said they didn’t. They do now. I wished them luck on their petition. I felt glad to actually get something of real local interest, not just another organization asking for money.

The moral of the story: Don’t drink while circulating petitions.

I just wanted to give a little update, since I hadn’t written in
some time. Last Friday, I took off to West Virginia, to attend
my brother’s sort of bachelor party. We didn’t do anything
rowdy, unless you consider a bunch of guys drinking in a house
as such, and I don’t drink. Ok, I did have a beer and a few
sips of a drink my brother made for a toast, but I quickly
remembered why I don’t drink: because it makes me feel sick. I
prefer natural stuff, and as soon as that came out I stopped.

We had some fun bagging on the surrounding area, including the
ridiculous road names, including Wagon Train Summit, Cross
School Crossroad or something like that, and Fruit Grower’s
Road. A lot of the roads also had weird fractional names, such
as CR9/2. One guy suggested that CR could stand for County or
Country Road, which seemed logical. The fractions cracked us up
though. We figured they did it to help teach kids math. Lots of
lanes and streets also had names of people – Edith’s Lane, etc.
We saw a bunch of Sheriff signs as well. “Squeal like a pig for
me!” The super market had one aisle labeled “Nutritional Foods”
then the rest. As a vegetarian, I felt nervous, but got some
good food, including some Amy’s Organic meals, which saved the
day again! Thanks, Amy!

I had a few rough spots. On the first night turning to morning,
everyone passed out, leaving the radio blasting death metal
until 07:30 or so. Not drinking means not sleeping, and I
finally roused a common friend to help fix the problem. When I
initially went out to try to resolve it, I found a few guys
still up, the owner of the radio having a little alcohol-induced
meltdown. We tried to council him, but counseling a drunk seems
a lot like counseling a cat – they will listen and react in the
present, but don’t count on them remembering it in the future.
Later in the day, the guy fell into the fire, breaking his
glasses and cutting his nose, his face coming very close to the
flames. He made it out all right, he could have gotten very
hurt. All and all though, I didn’t let the rough spots get me
down. I went for my brother’s happiness. Don’t worry. One day,
Goddess willing, I will get my revenge by throwing my own party!

On the second night, we had fun talking politics and lighting
off fireworks. My brother actually let me light a few, and
lighting one without sight can seem very harrowing, but I trust
him. We lit them and then he helped me run away. He loves fire!
I like Roman Candles most of all, but it didn’t go off very
much, though a few others did let off some lights I could see.
The firelight blurred it out a little, but I enjoyed the light
and sound nevertheless. Firelight does have a strangely healing
property as well, and I thought about people telling stories by
the fire long before we had electricity. I also enjoyed
listening to peoples’ political views, and occasionally
interjecting my opinions. I got some support for Ron Paul,
though after staying in West Virginia I understand why it ranked
lowest in donations.

I had the most fun on the last day, when we went rafting on a
lake, though a local informed us that they call it a pond around
those parts. Whatever, we could float rafts on it, so that
seemed good enough for us. Unfortunately, I got badly
sunburned. I felt feverish as soon as I came home, and a friend
from the southwest with experience quickly set my paranoid
concerns of picking up some virus from the lake to rights. I
drank water, I used aloe gel and Solarcaine, and I rested a lot.
Now I feel pretty much back to normal. My scalp also itched for
a time, and I wondered if I picked up some mutant West Virginian
head lice, but my Mom, who acted as head head lice inspecter at
our local school, determined that the itching just came from
gnat bites, which also makes sense. Both of my concerns seemed
justified however. “Where did [your brother's friend] find this
place, anyway?” “We asked him that the whole time.” Oh yes, and
how could I forget the sulfur water? We all reacted with
disgust, though did get strangely used to it. My Sport Berkey
came in so much handy, and sure enough it worked to filter out
the stink. They had to get bottled water. I offered my bottle,
but that received mainly ridicule. “I don’t want your hippy
crap.” said one guy. I drank better water than they did though,
most likely. At least it didn’t sit in a warehouse for six
months. Also, my brother has a degree in structural engineering,
and brought a friend with the same, and they had oodles of fun
commenting on the house in which we stayed, besides the sulfur
water, about which we had many animated discussions. “These
columns will rust through.” “Whatever,” my brother responded,
“They’re not important. They only hold the house up.” After the
ordeal, my brother said to me that he hoped I had fun, or at the
least a memorable time. I promise I definitely will never forget
this time, and did also have some fun. We can’t blame the lake
for the sunburn, or the fact that certain people through a
certain m-90 into it.

I may or may not do a show tomorrow night, I have to get back
into the news, getting articles etc. I missed a lot. Also, a
friend of mine went into the hospital for reasons unknown,
though I can hazard a guess. Send her good vibes! My brother’s
wedding happens next Saturday, with the rehearsal the night
before, so I will not do a show next week, but I’ll definitely
have some things to report. I feel glad to see him getting
married to a girl he loves.