When Johnny Comes Marching Home?

Well I said I wasn't going to get political but some things a person must speak out about. Today is May 25th, Memorial day weekend and from my window I can see the Hudson River dark and shimering below me . I was checking my email when the sound of roaring engines overhead startled Pat and I. America's military machine is in full force over our buildings. I guess some would say it's an impressive sight. It is. They landed three fighter helicopters in Riverbank Park so we took a walk on the park's bridge to watch them. What struck me first was the the precision at which those pilots manuevered and landed those large and swift air machines. The soldiers from the Army, Marines and the other forces poured out of them dressed in all their military finery. To say the least I was awed for a moment or two. So were the people who like myself had gathered around them to gawk and give arm chair opinions about why we need them to be safe, remember the Alamo, the Maine, oh I mean Nine Eleven and boy it takes a brave group of men and woman to want to join the service. The only thing missing was the music, but then I noticed that they even toted out speakers on stands to place in the grass, I guess we won't be hearing rap music today, or maybe one of the well known cross over artists have put a little P.ditty together. "Yo Niggas Yo Nappy headed Ho's come pick up a gun and take your po as to war." I hope I am not starting to sound to cynical but hey this is Harlem and being a child of the sixties those old liberal and quasi militant feelings are starting to ferment again in my memories. You see I grew up in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. No not the new gentrified version living next to Park Slope, just renovated a million dollar plus brownstone folks. No I mean the riots of sixty seven when walking to school meant passing the Black Panther store front and listening to the radio in the barber shop blare out results and comentaries of that week's Cassius Clay's aka Muhammed Ali's fight and seeing droves of young Black boys coerced into traveling to a place they never heard of called Vietnam to be just that, never heard of again. I remember the deep sweet seductive voices of the well manicured recruiters trolling my neighborhood in the hunt for young and naive men to fight for another people's freedom when they barely had theirs. Today I saw the same here in Harlem the hunt for Black pride under the guise of patriotism. It was and still is a brilliant ploy by the powers that be in America to quietly and deliberately use a boy's natural zest to prove his manhood and channel it towards a single goal. That goal is subjugation of other's rights and property by touting ours as the only salvation that they will ever need. Or as in the actions of our military machine showed in the Shock and Awe campaigning. We must first kill you in order for you to be truly free. Rumsfeld cronies said it all so well. Democracy has a price. But who is always paying.

CBS Interview about Cross That River

Good Morning World

This is my first blog and I want to say that I am very excited. Excited to share my world with those of you who seek one thing. Peace of mind through their creative endeavors. This blog I promise will not be a political forum or a platform to rant and rave against the injustices of the world. I will gladly talk about and exchange ideas,opinions and stories about travel,people and topics that uplift the mind and spirit. There will be many references and stories about travel, horses ,dogs and of course music. There is enough forums and discussions on the web about my fellow man by others who are more astute than I so I will not belabor the human condition too much.I welcome anyone and everyone to come to my site and exchange their experiences concerning these subjects and I hope that those who have an axe to grind in what ever fashion refrain from using this blog as their bully pulpit. That said, I chose the title Riding Pegasus because I envision my inner self soaring above the fray of life's daily grind atop of the mytholigical winged steed Pegasus. This is my escape, this is my Walter Mittyism when ever I can't just climb atop of a well balanced mount or pick up my guitar or hike through the forest. There you have it, my first reference to horses. So welcome one and all and good riding into your creative mind. Pegasus loves to share his back.