Blood Song: A Silent Ballad
By Eric Drooker
Introduction by Joe Sacco
A Harvest Original; Harcourt

Some of us find ourselves at a loss around the holidays because we either a) reject the ugly, consumerist, commercial spectacle the winter holidays and gift shopping has become; b) have absolutely no clue what kind of present is going to have the desired effect (because that’s our real motivation for gift-giving — to “let them know we care”); or, if you’re like a lot of us, c) you’re on the thinnest gift budget possible and the “bang for the buck” factor dominates your selection criteria.

(more…)

Acrisp, sunny day and Union Square is packed with firefighters and police officers for a September 11th memorial. I am moved, excited by the idea of a memorial that might help me connect with my feelings about the events on September 11th. All year, I have had such surreal feelings: Did this really happen? Is this all really going on?!

But, the event turns out to be as predictable as the new Union Square itself. I swear, sometimes I just feel so different from the majority of Americans. I mean, is this all we can do? We memorialize, tell stories of survivors, honor firefighters and police officers over and over…

(more…)

Join the North American Day of Housing Action. Last year, the National Day of Housing Action built momentum for the National Affordable Housing Trust Fund Campaign, is a nationwide effort to produce new housing in volumes not seen since the New Deal. Affordable housing construction means new jobs in these hard times, but many federal politicians have not committed to this needed legislation. This year on November 20th, we will continue to encourage them to do so.

(more…)

Cigarettes 25 cents… I hear it as I survey the line — three city blocks, turned in on itself, for lunch at the local kitchen.

Jesus… San Francisco is one town where you can’t get hungry unless you’re really determined.

In the slow lane again. Slow stuff, stupid stuff, I watch the same people I was serving as a counselor last week and know they see me in their old role this week. I have been here before — worked myself out then right back in.

Is it depression, this grey feeling, this disinterest in anything around me, this unknown lack of simple curiosity? Is this what they talk about as the trap from which there seems no escape? Is it thus that I will realize it is all futile… no anger, no blazing fury, just an even, cool gray?

(more…)

Not much else I could do on my way outta North Beach other than to see what hope Kuipe, Kruke and Joe “Gigante” could provide on the Giants’ Post- Game Radio Show.

I was sitting toward the front of the 30-Stockton heading south through Chinatown, grateful to get outta the borderline-drizzle. The Giants had just been crushed 10-4 in Game 3 of the World Series, and not even five pints of Guinness at the Columbus “Best Happy Hour in Town” Cafe could chase away all the blues. Of course, my troubles were nowhere near that of people — homeless or otherwise — facing the upcoming election, with its ugly Proposition N “Care Not Cash” (or more appropriately, “Promises for Solutions Not Destined To Work — And You Know About Bureaucracy In Action) on the ballot, threatening to take away most of what little funds and dignity they have left in this world.

(more…)