Walking Old Red

Last night I joined my first demonstration against Trumpismo.  A small group of people of all ages, with half from the junior college, walked along the Old Redwood Highway chanting and holding up signs. 

I started, 60 years ago, with informational picketing. I did a little of that back when the NAACP was the cutting edge. During the Vietnam Era, I joined gigantic marches. In the army I'd gotten tear gas training--that proved useful. Before and during the loony Iraq War Two, I joined the Healdsburg Peace Project vigil. I protest when nothing else is working. It's not clear that protesting works, either, but a demonstration shows that there's fight left in us. We fail again and again. We keep going.