Firebaugh looks the same...

So I just returned from Miami last night, and I'm looking at my small town, and realizing--"WOW, it's like night and day!" From crazy partying Miami to this tiny town is quite a culture shock. If Miami wasn't so damn humid, I'd move there tomorrow. The humidity turned me into a sweaty dripping mess every single day. It was embarassing! I was on the "Co-ed Confidential 3" set, surrounded by beautiful ladies, on both cast and crew, and I was a dripping mess! Ouch!
I flew out of Miami, with a stopover in Charlotte. There was just enough time for me to have a Bojangles biscuit. Yummy! I haven't had one since I lived in Richmond back in the 90's! I landed in LAX, and didn't even have to wait 5 minutes for the Van Nuys Flyaway shuttle. Then, from Van Nuys, it was up the 405 to the 5, and three hours later I'm in Firebaugh. It seems surreal, after two weeks in Miami, somehow Firebaugh seems both different, and yet still the same. There are a couple of palm trees around here, but still... Maybe if they opened a good Cuban restaurant, and I could find a great mojito, that'd make some kind of difference!

Back to Co-ed Confidential...

So for the past week and a half I've been down in Miami shooting season 3 of "Co-ed Confidential". I heard our show was popular, but I didn't realize exactly how popular it was. Apparently, it's the #1 rated show on Cinemax! Yee--HAW! It's great to see my buddy Kevin Patrick, and the ever-cute and sexy Michelle Maylene, as well as Bradley Joseph and a whole new set of faces.
So it's 9am here in Miami, and we have today and tomorrow to shoot. The crew is then going back to L.A. to finish up, but I'm actually going to return to my regular gig in the women's prison. Miami sure was fun though! I'll post up some pics later, for all you "Co-ed" fans!
~Ciao!

The Catfather?

This morning, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead woke up to a scene reminiscent of The Godfather’s hapless movie producer Woltz waking up with the head of his prized Arabian horse Khartoum’s bloody severed head nestled in his bed. As she was waking up, she noticed a strange little lumpy thing underneath her. As she pulled back the blankets, there was revealed… a dead mouse! Flattened, and staining the sheets with its life blood and other vital fluids, the small rodent was apparently a gift offered in tribute by one of our ever-increasing number of cats that have taken up residence at Casa Shoehead.
The feline presence in my domicile began with Starva, the matriarch of the clan. She enjoyed a peaceful and solitary existence for many years, until June, 2006 and the arrival of Missy Cleopatra. Missy was in a cage at our vet’s office for about two days with an “adopt me’ sign on the outside of the cage. The story on the sign told how she was found by one of the vet’s staff in a pillowcase in an apartment dumpster! She was such a cute little black furball, just climbing and playing around in her cage, we just had to take her home with us. At first, there was friction between Starva, and the young upstart Missy, but soon things were worked out into a sort of détente. About a year later, in the summer of 2007, a couple of alley cats started coming around our outside staircase crying for food. One of them had an injured tail, and he was the most affectionate of the alley cats. Soon, he showed up daily and I made sure he got a good meal, and sometimes some milk! When the decision was made to move out of Oxnard in November 2007, Mrs. Shoehead and I felt that we just couldn’t leave “Cat-tail” (as he was now called), behind to take his chances with the increasingly dangerous neighborhood. Yippee! Cat #3! There was still plenty of room at the new house, as well as a spacious yard so that all three cats (plus two dogs) could co-habitate, although to Starva’s chagrin.
A few short weeks later, at a Christmas trip to her auntie’s house, the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead noticed another little kitten, a grey tiger-striped cat, hanging around the front doorstep, unheeded and un-cared for. Naturally, as animal lovers, we felt obligated to take this on in, too. We kept him in the same room as Cat-tail, segregated from the other cats until they could all get acclimated to one another. Buster, as the new addition came to be called, and Cat-tail got along great. The older, seasoned alley cat, took the young cat under his protection, almost like a little brother. He still to this day hangs out with Buster and protects him from the dogs. Our first attempt at integrating the newer boy cats to the established girl cats resulted in buster scampering under the house, and deciding to take up permanent residence there. He comes out from his hole every morning at seven am and every night around 10 pm for his feeding, under the watchful eye of his big brother, Cat-tail.
This was pretty much how it went on through most of 2008, but one day in mid-August, I went out to feed Buster, and there was a tan tiger-striped cat, even smaller than Buster! Crying, hungry and scared, I fed him—wondering if he was here to stay, or just passing through. (Many neighborhood cats jump over our fence and visit Casa Shoehead. We must be a hot-spot in the cat circuit!) As he basically never left, and hung around our back porch for the next couple of days, we decided to take him in and clean him up a little bit. He was covered with fleas, and had ear-mites, so we took care of that, and we helped him to get nourished, too. He’s recovering nicely, and as it turns out he’s got a great personality—very playful and loving. Our Italian Greyhound, Bocce, took an instant like to him. Bocce kisses him and tries to play with him as often as he can, and the kitten’s not scared in the least. Last week, Mrs. Shoehead named him Vanilla Bean, or Beanie for short. So, cat #5 has arrived!
So, in regards to this morning’s incident with the poor little mouse, we’re trying to determine which cat was the culprit. Was it an offer of tribute from Missy Cleopatra, who’s trying to retain her position with her human overlords as #2 cat in the household? Or was it Cat-tail, trying to exert his influence with the humans and move up in household rank? A long-shot says it was Starva, trying to prove she’s still a viable force in the cat organization. Unlikely, but still an option. Ruled out are Buster, who almost never comes in the house any more, and Bean, who’s still under quarantine in what’s now the “cat room”. If the cats could talk, it would make the investigation much easier, but as it is, it may never be solved. Meanwhile Mrs. Shoehead is still highly freaked out.

Cinematic splendor, right here in my own home!

The lovely Mrs. Shoehead and I, still enjoying the lack of cable TV in our lives, have been on a DVD-watching frenzy. Yesterday’s viewings—“Tyler Perry’s Meet the Browns”, and “Little Children”. We found “Browns” amusing, in the typical Tyler Perry vein. He re-uses some of his elements in several of his offerings, which is fine—he’s trying to deliver a message as well as entertain. We were treated to the same characters, the struggling single mom, the deadbeat dad, the promising basketball player son that gets hospitalized by a drug deal shooting, etc. As Tyler’s films are always funny, heartwarming, and full of good values, the House of Shoehead was pleased and entertained. As such, I hereby promise, that I will never be a deadbeat dad, on the off chance my son will grow up to be a 16-year old NBA first draft pick. Amen.

“Little Children” was a different story. The DVD came in on our Netflix and we both looked at each other and wondered “Who added this one to the queue?” Then I realized that it was I who added this flick, noticing that this was the movie that featured the cinematic return of Jackie Earle Haley (No, not Haley Joel Osment). For you 40-something pop culture geeks, he was “Kelly Leak” in the monumental “Bad News Bears” movie from 1976. So I’m the culprit for wasting over two hours of mine and the Lovely Mrs. Shoehead’s lives, which we’ll never get back. First off, the movie was long, and painfully slow. You could have cut the movie in half, and still gotten the “story”. Kate Winslet played Sarah, a self-absorbed do-nothing housewife, who starts an affair with Brad, played by some guy, who’s a delusional do-nothing househusband. These two idiots actually had the temerity to include their toddler children in their infidelities, letting them play together while they got “busy”! A side story to these escapades is Jackie Earle Haley as a released sex-offender in the neighborhood, and a disgraced ex-cop (played by some other guy) who’s obsessed with tormenting him and his mom. Actually, in the whole film, the perv and his mom are the only characters I felt any sympathy or pathos for. Especially the mom, who really didn’t ask for any of this nightmare. She’s harassed to a breaking point and finally dispatched when the ex-cop knocks her to the ground, and she goes into cardiac arrest. Then, instead of the revenge ending I was craving, (I envisioned a pre-dug grave up in Maine for the ex-cop) we get a redemption in ex-cop Larry when he drives the self-castrated perv to the emergency room. Throughout the film, it was suggested the perv be castrated, so it was a self-fulfillment. Meanwhile, our cheating couple decided to stay in their marriages after all. Aaaah, all is right with the world. We did get to see Kate Winslets boob, (nipple and all!) and she did have some sexy blue toenail polish, which I like, but otherwise, I wish I could somehow get those two hours back…

They all Suck '08

I really do my best not to make this a political blog, because personally I can’t stand politics or politicians, but it really disappoints me that the next president, whether it’s the abominable Obama, or the ever-ambitious RINO McCain, will be a senator. A senator is not a leadership position. It’s a committee, deal-making, consensus-seeking position. I always believe that a governor is the logical choice for a U.S. president, having proven his (or her) executive acumen running a state government for a term or two. If an dark-horse outsider comes along, I think a CEO might be a better choice than a senator. So no matter who wins the general election in November, it’s sure to be a disappointment. There’s something particularly sleazy and disgusting about the U.S. senate.

I don’t believe in my lifetime I’ll see a Libertarian president. While that does reflect my personal belief system, I’m afraid I’ll have to rely on the Republicans to fend off the ravenous encroachments of the Democrat party. Which they almost religiously fail to do. That’s why the Republicans constantly piss me off as well. My campaign slogan is “THEY ALL SUCK ‘08”

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Get ready for the Mexico expansion! Click here for details!

Hey there readers!

I've been away, and lost my internet connection, got a job then got laid off a month later-- It's been a crazy couple of months. SO-- any of my fans out there miss me? I thought so!
While I was away, we lost George Carlin, Bernie Mac, Isaac Hayes, and a dear friend of mine, my old agent in Richmond VA, Liz Marks. The news of Liz's death came to me as a total shock. She was very helpful to me when I started acting professionally in 1991; I considered her a mentor and a friend. So I wanted to acknowledge these fine folks whom we lost in the last 2 months, and send a cosmic thank you to them for helping to brighten our lives.

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Big news-- our company is expanding into Mexico by the end of the year. It's a great opportunity to build a huge organization, with a potential customer base of a million+
Take a look and see...

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Well, that's all for now, but I'm going to make an effort to publish at least three times a week. I miss my blog, and I miss my readers (which number like ten or so now!)
Be cool...

What a difference 27 years makes!

2nd New York Regiment, Yorktown VA, October 1981

Mark Edrys and Charles J. Nohai, Yorktown 1981

Mark Edrys and Charles J. Nohai, Los Angeles March 2008

Nice little heatwave here in Firebaugh...

Now I see why they call this place Firebaugh. It's like, 110° in the shade... too hot for outdoor exercise, so I have to use my alternative fat loss plan. Otherwise, things have been going pretty good with the program. Exercising, running, and doing some isometrics and push-ups seems to be doing the trick. My new running program is an hour-long run, four times per week. Since my 10K is about an hour, I'm actually running 24.8 miles per week. I do ab-work Monday, Wednesday and Friday, so we'll see how the plan goes. I'll weigh in every Friday, so right now I'm at: 226 lbs. My gol is to be a nice, ripped 185 lbs. So here we go!
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My prediction: Sayonara Syesha!

She's cute, sexy and has a very nice voice, but I predict after last night's all-around mediocre American Idol show, that the Sarasota sweetie is gonna say "see-ya". Syesha Mercado delivered last night's audience three utterly forgettable performances-- the predictable Alicia Keyes "If I Don't Have You" predictably chosen by the predictable judge Randy Jackson; a cabaret performance of Peggy Lee's "Fever" complete with prop chair; and, ummm... some other song. (Was it the penguin song from "Happy Feet"? I think so...) *Sigh* And I like her, too. She just never really defined herself as to what kind singer she is. "Generic Pop Singer" seems to be what she's shooting for. I guess that's not necessarily a death-knell in Idol-World. Jordin Sparks won last year, and she didn't really have any kind of musical style to lay claim to. But Syeha's lack of gravitas (YES! I used a political word!) in last night's performances, not to mention the judges outright candor (even Paula!) in basically telling her she's done, suggests I write a pre-post-mortem on Ms. Mercado.
That presumptively leaves the two Davids-- guitar-playing rocker Cook, and dreadful balladeer Achuleta to vie it out for the final victory. My money's on Mr. Cook for a number of reasons, not sucking being the top reason, but we'll have to see how it plays out. Archie's somnambulant croonings do seem to rank high amongst Idol voters (at least female, under the age of fifteen). As Simon Cowell stated several weeks ago, if this is still a talent competition, and not a popularity contest, David Cook's got it hands down.
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Back to Busking...

It took no Einstein, or crystal ball to predict who'd get the footprint-on-the-ass on this week's Idol. Dreadful, dreadlocked Jason Castro-- who relied on sheer cuteness to get him this far, got bumped after crapping out a version of the Bob Marley classic "I Shot the Sheriff", then proceeded to mangle Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man". Bo Bice, my personal pick for season 4's Idol, summed it up pretty well when he commented on the decision to let this season's contestants play their instruments--it's OK to an extent, but some performers hide behind it. Right on the money, Bo... Jason C was a one-trick pony, and basically gave us the same performance every week. Essentially displaying none of the versatility that is required of all Idol aspirants, Jason brought his subway busking-style performances to the Idol stage relentlessly until I think even he himself couldn't believe he'd lasted that long.
As a final 10 contestant, he's earned himself a place on the American Idol tour, so concert-goers will be treated to more of his repetitive musical musings. I'm not sure how many songs they allow these performers to solo on, but I think a better venue for Jason would be on the downtown platform of the 1/9 trains in Times Square. It would be perfect--these trains go right down to Greenwich Village! Utterly appropriate, and a great audience for Mr. Castro.
OK, so that's settled... now let's focus our efforts on that other one-trick-pony, David Archuletta. He sings just like he talks--boring, yawning; always schmaltzy ballads. Another crappy performer propped up by the pubescent-girl vote. Syesha's very sexy, and I can see her in an acting career, probably musicals and musical theater. I even wouldn't be too disappointed if she won the whole Idol pie. But I think the deserving winner this year is David Cook. He's talented, versatile, and interprets his cover tunes in a very creative and personal way. He also displays his rock-n-roll roots, without being a complete sell-out (as much as a show like this will allow). OK, there's only two more weeks of Idol, and this season really did prove to be a snore. Let's hope that next season will give us a little something more. And, keep the instruments at home, kids. I don't really think it worked, David Cook aside. Let's get another Melinda Doolittle onstage next season. She was the best, and most talented performer that ever set foot on the American Idol stage.

Yay! Finally getting my dogs back...

After two weeks, I'm getting my two dogs back from boarding at my in-laws. We had to seperate them, because Cowgirl is well-behaved, and Bocce is, um... not. I'm leaving in about 15 minutes and driving first to San Francisco to get Bocce, then Modesto to retrieve Cowgirl. I'm so excited...

There's jut an emptiness without those two little guys.

Mourning Brooke White (But I saw it comin' a mile away!)

I could feel it, I knew it, I watched it unfold before me--and from the look on her face, I could tell that Brooke White felt the exact same way I did. As I watched the elimination of perhaps the purest, and absolute sweetest of any Idol contestant ever, I couldn't help but say to myself, "I can see where this is going..."
The sensitive, yet plucky Miss White got clipped after singing "I Am... I Said" on Neil Diamond week, after seemingly weeks of slowly coming unravelled. I was pulling for her from early on, especially after my main man Chikezie got whacked, but recent performances of hers showed signs of slippage, which is often fatal to an aspiring Idol. I witnessed not one, but two false starts (once on her own with a piano, and once with a full orchestra behind her!); and saw her almost lose it during her piano-playing performance of Mariah Carey's "Hero"; barely stumbling through the number. Alas, the voting public had finally stopped dialing her number.
I really did like this contestant, and it was with no amount of my usual American Idol schadenfreude did I feel for the 24 year-old nanny from Mesa, Arizona. She was an absolute sweetheart, and a very good musician; playing both piano and guitar for several numbers. She has an great voice--somewhat country, with a reminiscence of Carly Simon. She's also stunningly beautiful. Tall, blonde, and with the perfect balance of sexiness and pure innocence; with just a touch of almost goofiness thrown in to round out the mix. Where many aspiring Idols fall because they don't connect with the audience despite an above-average singing voice, I really believe Brooke did connect with the audience--which kept her afloat despite weeks of shaky performances. Sadly, in the end, her nerves just got the best of her.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Harriet!

Harriet Lloyd Ross
May 2 1896- August 1994

Today, my little auntie Harriet, Hyatt as we all knew her as, would have been 112! It's amazing to think that she saw in her lifetime everything from the Wright Brothers' first flight, all the way to the space shuttle missions.
Our dear Hyatt was quite an interesting woman. she was rather eccentric, but to her own right she was very successful in a financial company on Wall Street. She was an office manager which, sadly, was about as high as a woman could go in those days. Her boss was a man named Mr. Horner. Hyatt was very intelligent, and quite a conversationalist. And she'd be very upset with me if I didn't mention that she was a Methodist! We all miss her a lot...
Happy Birthday, Hyatt!

Back from San Diego with a new attitude!

For the past week, I've been in Mission Beach with my brother Jason. It was really a much-needed respite from the every day life in Firebaugh. While I was there, I got back into my old fitness routine, and more than that, rediscovered who I am and where my inner peace lies. It sounds kinda cliché, but it really is true. In dealing with personal issues, and the day-to-day dreariness of my life, I really did lose myself and my focus along the way.
So this past week, with my brother there to support and encourage me, we did a lot of running (with my two dogs Bocce and Cowgirl). We also set up a bootcamp-style training gym right in the sand on the beach of Mission Bay. Next we started a new plan to fire up our ACN business, that's a surefire winner. I helped him set up his office, we ate great meals al fresco, right by the bay... It was almost purifying!
I learned not to succumb to negativity. from now on, I'll take control of my life again. it's a good feeling. A key factor in my new attitude is Don Miguel Ruiz's The Four Agreements. This is a collection of ancient Toltec wisdom, made easy to follow in todays' world.

Charlton Heston, a great American

I was really saddened by the loss of Charlton Heston this week. Not only was he a great actor, and a film legend, but he represented all that's good about America. He was the first actor that I actually recognized and got familiar with when I was a kid. Being a sci-fi geek, his leading performances in "The Omega Man", "Soylent Green", and of course, Colonel George Taylor in "Planet of the Apes". Not to mention all the other roles he was famous for that don't even need mentioning. his voice was commanding, and his screen presence filled the room.
Another thing I admire about Mr. Heston, is his commitment to what he believed in, even if it proved to be unpopular. His position on gun-owners' rights, and his love for America earned him criticism from many people, including those in his own industry.
Thank you Mr. Heston, for what you've done in my life and inspiring me and others.

Don't cry, Ramiele!

This week's departure of Ramiele Malubay came as no surprise to me. I did come in late to the Idol game this season due to a work project, missing all of Hollywood week and the elimination of the first twelve. So, I didn't get to see the early performances that earned her top twelve status. But, that being said, as I watched the diminutive and undeniably cute Rami perform, I had her pegged for an early elimination.
I just got the feeling while watching her, that she's just not a performer. She has an incredible voice, no doubt about that. She just seemed to not know what to do on stage. She gave off a look that seemed to say, "I've seen other singers do this, so this is what I'm supposed to do!" as she stood awkwardly or tried to look as-cute-as-can-be for the camera. That always reads across the TV airwaves, and sooner or later, the audience will lose interest and stop voting. I imagine her fanbase was a good percentage of Filipinos and other Asians giving her support (and valuable phone votes!). At the very beginning of the season, during her audition phase, she'd remarked that she aspired to be the first Asian-american Idol. Or did she say it without the hyphen; the first Asian American Idol? I couldn't tell... Either way, it was a very admirable aspiration.
Coincidentally, Ramiele's departure episode displayed video clips of "What-are-they-doing-now" clips of previous seasons' finalists. Most of them seem to be doing really well (The clips did not feature Jessica Sierra), and following their musical dreams in some capacity. Not to mention, being a top 10 finalist, Rami gets to go on the American Idol tour. With that kind of exposure, and the right kind of planning and representation, she has a great chance of continuing as a successful performing artist. After all, that's what it's all about, right?
This led to one of my patented "bright ideas™"... I mentioned to the lovely Mrs. Shoehead that Ramiele could not only be an "American" Idol, but she could go global with this. If she started representing herself as an example of Asian-american pop music talent, and also started booking concerts and releasing albums in the Asian nations, and the Pacific Rim, I believe she'll be hugely successful! A truly global talent, representing America, Asian-America, and the American Idol franchise to over a billion people! I hope her representation and management have at least entertained the possibilities. I told the lovely Mrs. Shoehead that I would be willing to represent Ramiele, if she needed me. So, cheer up my diminutive cutie, you could be bigger than Miley Cyrus, and not even have to concoct a "Hannah Montana" persona.

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Martin Luther King reincarnated?

It's a happy 40th birthday to my buddy from a previous life, Keith AKA Shrek. It seems he was born on the same day the esteemed M.L.K. passed away. Coincidence? I Think not... Any spiritual person (or non-spiritual, for that matter) would see the obvious fact that Keith "Shrek" is the reincarnation of Dr. King! Shrek was part of a little underground business that I got involved with when I first moved to California. One of the other guys in that little circle just happens to be the reincarnation of Elvis. Dennis, or "D" was born on August 16th, 1977, the same day as The King checked out of that Heartbreak Hotel we call life.
Can you see the parallels? Martin Luther KING, The KING? How can anyone miss that?

Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHREK!!! The big 4-0!

Thank you Dr. King

Just a little reflection on this 40th anniversary of Dr. King's death... The "I have a dream" speech from 1963 was one of the defining moments of the 20th century.

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I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

A day in the life...

Another great day in Firebaugh... It rained a little yesterday, but today is sunny and warm! One of my cats, a cute kitten named Buster who went missing two weeks ago, came back! He was hiding out under the house, and the were sightings of him, and rumored sightings (like Elvis or Bigfoot) but he finally returned to the warmth and comfort of Casa Shoehead.

Now, I'm finishing my coffee, and working on my screenplay. ah, yes...
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Maybe I'll join the C.I.A.

Three men answered and ad for CIA agents. The ad stated
the men were to bring their wives.

The first man was called in for the interview. The Agent
in charge handed him a gun, then said, "We must have
absolute loyalty in this service. Take your wife in the
next room and shoot her."

The man looked shocked. He thought and said "I'm afraid I
can't do that. I just got married 2 weeks ago and I still
love my wife." He left.

The second man came in and the agent gave him the same
pitch. The man, almost in tears said, "Oh no. I can't do
that to her, she's about to have a baby." So he left.

The third man entered and was given the pitch. So he took
the gun and his wife into the next room. Soon "bam bam
bam bam bam!" Then there was noise of furniture being
broken, woman's screams, then nothing. The man comes
back out.

The agents asked, "What went on in there??!!"

The man said: "Some idiot put blanks in the gun
so I strangled her!"