Diamond Mike Watson's Blog, page 6

That Could Have Been Me

For nearly nine minutes a police officer forced the weighed of his body on the neck of a restrained and unarmed black man.

That could have been me.

As the officer stared into the crowd with his hand in his pocket the black man pleaded for oxygen and called for his deceased mother as his face was pressed into the hard pavement.

That could have been me.

Two minutes after the last cry of the black man was heard, the officer removed the burden of his weight from the black mans neck. The black man was pronounced dead.

That could have been me. I am not talking about the black man. I am talking about the police officer. None of us are clean. None of us are innocent. Since the dawn of mankind the ugly gene of cruelty may be inherent in all of us.

Let us pray.

One Year Ago

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On May 1, 2019 I spoke to my vanished sister, Deborah Kay, for the first time. When I was shown this old photo of her in our birthmother’s arms no one told me what happened to her.

Was she adopted? Was she kidnapped? Did she die?

My sister, born as Deborah Kay Price, is alive and well. She was raised by loving babysitters, a woman and man she would eventually call Mama and Pa.

With perseverance and positive intention I can assure everyone that we should never be afraid of what we may find. The joy that awaits us will far outweigh the burden of our long journey.

To my beautiful sister, Debbie, you are a miracle of hope for everyone who is searching for the truth.

 

A Promising Flower

 

In 1974, when I was sixteen, I wrote the following doom-and-gloom poem that was published in a small poetry book.  Some old school friends recently helped me find this. I always felt the writing was horrible but it strikingly reflects the COVID-19 calamity that is currently afflicting our world. I do still share the belief that no matter what the outcome of our human race, our earth will remain unscathed.

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A Promising Flower

When the dark shadows are covering the earth
The Last Days are coming but what are they worth?
Humans fall dead with her faces on ground
Cars run no more, and the planes make no sound

Our planet is ice, and our sun shines no more
Waterfalls don’t pour, and the lions don’t roar
Our sun god has left us, for that we are sure
For dark is our earth, and there is no cure

A bird falls to ground like a plane meets it’s doom.
Mortal is he whose mind’s full of gloom
The blind cannot tell that a darkness exploded
But they will not mind as their skin is eroded

Stop! Over there! Do you hear something sing?
A promising flower just opened its wings.

Diamond Mike Watson
1974.

The Lie that Shocked a Nation

The Lie that Shocked a Nation

https://www.rev.com/blog/transcripts/donald-trump-coronavirus-press-conference-transcript-april-23

A.  Donald Trump: The Medical Doctor Who Will Save the World.

“So, supposedly when we hit the body with a tremendous, whether it’s ultraviolet or just very powerful light, and I think you said that hasn’t been checked, but you’re going to test it. And then I said supposing you brought the light inside the body, which you can do either through the skin or in some other way. Sounds interesting, right? And then I see the disinfectant, where it knocks it out in one minute. And is there a way we can do something like that by injection inside or almost a cleaning because you see it gets in the lungs and it does a tremendous number on the lungs, so it’d be interesting to check that so that you’re going to have to use medical doctors with, but it sounds interesting to me.”

 

B. Donald Trump: The Sarcastic Jokester.

Ayesha Rascoe: Mr. President, can you clarify your comments about injections of disinfectant? They were quite provocative.

Donald Trump: No, I was asking a question sarcastically to reporters like you just to see what would happen. Now, disinfectant for doing this maybe on the hands would work. And I was asking the question of the gentleman who was there yesterday, Bill, because when they say that something will last three, or four hours, or six hours, but if the sun is out or if they use disinfectant, it goes away in less than a minute. Did you hear about this yesterday? But I was asking a very sarcastic question to the reporters in the room about disinfectant on the inside. But it does kill it and it would kill it on the hands and that would make things much better. That was done in the form of a sarcastic question to the reporters. Okay?

Rascoe: But you were asking your medical experts to look into it.

Donald Trump: No, no, no.

Rascoe: Were you being sarcastic with them?

Donald Trump: To look into whether or not sun and disinfectant on the hands, but whether or not sun can help us because he came in yesterday and he said they’ve done a big study. This is a study. This isn’t where he hasn’t done it. This is where they’ve come in with a final report that sun has a massive impact negatively on this virus. In other words, it does not live well with humidity and it doesn’t live well with sun, sunlight, heat. It doesn’t live well with heat, and sun, and disinfectant. And that’s what I brought out, and I thought it was clear. Okay, anything else?

—-

The shocking suggestion of a powerful light and disinfectant in the A narrative was made on April 23, 2020, by the President of the United States. This man who speaks with the authority of a medical doctor who will save the world is going to kill his followers.

I ask the reader to compare the narrative of A with B. The audience that hears these briefings on any given day is about 8.5 million.

I believe most of us value and respect certain qualities in humans, including character and honesty.We all should demand these qualities from a US President.These dialogues were wrong, irresponsible and dangerous.And this came at a time we need a leader during this pandemic, not a person who lies to us, pretends to be a medical doctor one day and a jokester the next day.

 

2020 Diamond Day Postponed

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Diamond Day is a day we honor all moms.

Although it has been postponed to contain COVID-19, I ask you to remember this day in the solitude of your homes and in your hearts.  When our world becomes a safer place we will honor every winner of the Why Mom Deserves a Diamond contest.

To every winner and mom, I promise to give you an experience that you will never forget. The contest was founded on love and appreciation. It requires eye contact, affection, and standing closer than 6 feet away. It requires reading aloud without a mask that covers our mouths. It requires being immersed in a memory that will never be forgotten.

Until we are able to provide these essentials that celebrate our humanness, I have a treasure chest of sparkling prizes ready to give you.

Please use this time of reflection to more fully understand the importance of what really matters in this world, which is remembering those we love and those who love us.

Is it OK to Hate?

The response to this question about hate was so transformational to me that I clipped it from a magazine and carried it in my wallet for years.  Post something that has changed your life. 

Question:  Although I know that hate can eat you up and diminish your spirit, it’s OK to hate Hitler and things like poverty.  Can I also hate my mother without damaging myself?

H. T., Harmony , CA.

Answer: I believe that it is not OK to hate Hitler, poverty, or anything else.  Hate is such an ugly emotion that it degrades the hater.  It also causes bad thinking and physical illness.  It is far better to see a wrong and be inspired by the love of mankind- a beautiful emotion- to try to right it.  Hatred causes destruction; love causes construction.  While you need not love your mother, don’t allow yourself to hate her either.

-Marilyn Vos Savant. Nov 10, 2002.  Parade Magazine

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The Future of Physical Affection

Even in these days of uncertainty, as long as I am able-bodied, I cannot imagine any tragedy that would prevent my effort in expanding the Why Mom Deserves a Diamond contest to the ends of the earth. When families and their kids know they are loved there is no doubt how our world benefits. Imagine a society in which our youth will forever carry the security and confidence that will enable them to accomplish anything.

I believe in the power of the spoken word. That is why it is a requirement for all my winners to recite their words to their mothers before receiving their gemstone prizes. Many times a hug will follow. I remember the tight hugs of my own adoptive mother. My mother also reminded me or how much she loved me everyday. I wonder if she realized she had given me a lifelong and unshakable confidence to alter the solar system.

My concern is when these uncertain days will pass. Will we stand and sit further apart from one another? Will we once again revert our attentions to our electronic devices? Will we avoid embracing one another?

I even dedicated a chapter in my book- “How important is a hug?” I can imagine the dark scenario of a child reading his essay to mom through the Internet. But will physical affection fade away also?

If you know a winning family that was scheduled to come to our store, please inform them they can come whenever we reopen for a mom and child experience they will never forget.

Please share.

Save the Trees of Brookhollow

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Brookhollow Business Park is a luscious green 31-acre property in Santa Ana, California that is the home to 24 buildings, a sparkling pond with ducks and turtles, and a mini-forest of giant canary island pine trees.

The beauty and shade of these trees provide tranquility and comfort for every visitor.  The trees dampen the noise from overhead jets, provide tens of thousands of pounds of oxygen, and offer a home for neighboring animals.  As dangerous amounts of carbon emissions fill our sky, we know trees are good for our environment.  A majestic 40-year-old pine is awesome to behold.  If removed, we will never again experience its full glory.

For reasons not clearly explained, Ayzar Management has continued to systematically remove these trees for the past eight years.  One building owner wanted a tree to be chopped down because he needed signage.  Others desired more storefront visibility.  We have also found some owners who requested removal not because of building damage, but because of normal tree debris or the “menace” of squirrels.

In 2019 twenty-one major iconic pines were chopped down.  Four more were downed on Mother’s Day weekend.  And, despite protest from owners and other experts, in January 2020 four more of the magnificent trees that visitors enjoy day have been removed forever.  A Google Earth history search will reveal the shocking disappearance of the largest trees in the past eight years.  We have seen large, cool swaths of shade disappear.  We have watched in horror as hummingbirds and their nests tumble to the ground.  We have seen the wonder of this ecological paradise become destroyed. 

Please help us save this beautiful park.  An arborist report states that all trees are very healthy and none pose any harm to any building or person. I think we can all agree that trees are good and may even be our last hope for climate change.

Sometimes in life we are called to action. Although our world needs trillions of more trees, we must first take a leadership stand in the fight for these trees necessary for our global sustainability.

As owners, tenants, and concerned citizens, we respect this pristine sanctuary.

WE DEMAND:

Ayzar Management must abide by the rules of protecting, maintaining and preserving the trees and pond of Brookhollow Park, and no healthy tree can be removed unless there is proof beyond a reasonable doubt that a tree poses an imminent danger to a building or a person.

Please sign the petition below on Change.org.

http://chng.it/v92sXMdM

My Name is Apollo

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My name is Apollo. I am a canary island pine tree in Brookhollow Business Park in Santa Ana, California. I am your greeter and the first tree you observe when you visit me from the north entrance. I stand alongside the management’s office so I always try to look confident.

No matter your mood I am always cheerful and reflect the brightest glow of my long green needles to make you feel welcome.

I was given my Greek name because it means strength or Father of Light. I don’t mean to brag, but I have this talent to convert energy from sunlight called photosynthesis. I transform carbon dioxide into oxygen and “exhale” it for humans and animals to breathe.

I was planted here forty years ago when the park was young. This is Margaret next to me. I remember when she was planted shortly after me. We always joked that if the arborists did not straighten her she would end up permanently standing with an awkward slant. The arborist never returned, so I affectionately call her Leaning Pisa.

I have stood here 40 years. I have slept here 40 years. I can share so many memories with you. There is one company in the park that honors our mothers every year by marching around the pond with black and white umbrellas. I always try to look my best when they take photographs.

Every Sunday a nearby church holds a big picnic beside me and Margaret. The smoke from the BBQ chicken flutters high in our branches. The congregation always laughs and has a good time while Margaret and I shade them from the hot sun. The same little boy always comes close to me in search of lizards or interesting bugs by my trunk. One time he gave Margaret a hug. Her needles beamed.

Last Saturday morning I heard a familiar sound of a large truck. It was HappyGreen Tree Trimming Service. It had been years since my branches had been pruned and my canopy had become huge. Perhaps the management didn’t like me dropping pine cones on the roof.

Rather than the normal two or three workers there were eight men who got out of the truck. I have gotten quite tall and I supposed it now took the expertise of several people to trim me. As the large crane escalated into the sky I noticed all the workers staring at me silently.

I heard the familiar hum of the chainsaw. A large branch crashed onto the ground. Then another branch tumbled. Another man pointed at a limb and soon it was also being sawed. They kept cutting me.

It was Saturday morning when no one else was at the park. No one was there to protest my destruction. Margaret’s needles darkened from anxiety. Hummingbirds buzzed frantically, knowing that danger was near and their babies nest might be destroyed.

Another major arm fell. “What did I do wrong?” I wondered. For forty years I have proudly done my job, which is to stand and be beautiful. I gave shade to the mother duck and her ducklings who marched pass me in a military style single file every day.

Crash. Another limb fell.

Although I never felt pain I still asked, Why me? I would never wish misfortune to any friend but Margaret was the one who leaned. I stood perfectly tall and straight. I was careful that my root system was never invasive and never harmed the management building. In forty years I never caused a single crack in the sidewalk.

“Stand back!” another worker yelled as another one of my arms jolted the pavement.

With all of my being I summoned the rest of my branches to search for clues. If I was going to be killed I wanted to know the reason. Using my needles like one million eyes a group of them spotted a sign in the window of an adjacent suite of the building. It read, “For Lease” with a telephone number.

“Search, seek, and find” was my final command to the rest of my extremities. It didn’t make sense to destroy a living vessel that produces hundreds of pounds of oxygen for humans to breathe.

Another set of my needles noticed strange hieroglyphics scribbled in white paint on the backside of my trunk. I can’t read, but I took a mental photo of the image- ‘Marked for Removal #23.” With my underground communication system I now understand what happened to my friends Jasmine, Pax, Zella, Astoria, Dorian, and Stacia. They were cut into pieces last week.

An answer from the heavens appeared in the voices of the workers. One pointed towards me and said, “That’s where the big sign will go.”

“What sign?” the other worker asked.

“Didn’t you hear? Another church will be moving here. The management of the park said they would remove the tree and allow them to erect a sign if they agreed to lease their suite for five years.”

By the evening I was divided into dozens of huge wooden sections that kissed the earth. The normal swath of shade was now hot sunlight that scorched the pavement. My last remains was my huge stump, which displayed forty perfect rings for each year of my life.

By the morning even my stump was removed and covered with mulch and decorative rocks to hide the evidence I was ever there. I’m sure the neighbors will notice I disappeared when they return to work Monday morning. I will sure miss that little boy on Sundays.

I suppose nothing really dies, but rather we are simply transformed to another realm. If you ever come to my park to visit Margaret, please tell her I said hello. If you feel a calming breeze of cool wind- please think of me.

My name is Apollo.

Mr. Green Tree

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Mr. Green Tree

It must have been nearly twenty years ago that I remember driving to work and noticing such a handsome tree in the middle of a barren plowed field.

I remember thinking how welcoming his shade would be for laborers escaping from the hot sun. I went as far as imagining the workers eating their lunches under the thick canopy of foliage where the breeze blew cool. I even imagined sitting with the workers in my business attire sharing bologna sandwiches and sipping warm soup.

The trunk seemed huge and the tree must have been at least 40 years old. I was thankful that he had been spared from removal, for farm machinery prefers straight lines without plowing around obstacles.

I wondered why I hadn’t noticed the tree before. The leaves were full and vibrant and seemed to scream, “Hey look at me. I am beautiful! I will give you oxygen to breathe.” It is necessary to keep ones eyes on the road while driving and not be distracted by the surroundings. But nevertheless I maintained visual contact with the leafy monument for as long as possible as I wizzed by.

As I arrived at work the comforting image of Mr. Green Tree rested in my brain. I had just joined Facebook and typed my experience into empty cyberspace. I don’t remember receiving likes or comments because I probably had no more than three or four friends.

The next morning I looked for Mr. Green Tree. He was gone. There were no logs, a stump, or any evidence that he had lived there for the past 40 years. Why did I just notice him the day before? What outside source had coaxed me to turn my head in his direction? In the past 40 years, did anyone besides me behold even a mere five seconds of his majesty as they zoomed along beside him?

Today, twenty years later, I can close my eyes and see Mr. Green Tree, who may have witnessed the first kiss of two lovers, or offered shade for a family picnic.

You may not see him as you speed along the 405 freeway but I know he is still there. His spirit continues to live in the middle of a strawberry field. This in time will become a concrete parking lot, which will change again into giant skyscrapers.

Since I belong to the human race I feel partly responsible for eliminating Mr. Green Tree. We continuously destroy more trees than we plant. It makes me wonder when we will understand that we may not be the wisest creatures in this world.