Letter to San Francisco

 

The Blue Angels are a flight demonstration squadron of the U.S. Navy that put on some 30 aerial shows throughout the country. They first came to San Francisco in 1950. As I sat in my yard quietly reading, they boomed overhead and prompted this Facebook post.

 

On a crisp Fall day, writing on this dubious Facebook platform (that mixes our deep desire to connect with purposeful lies and mis-information that breeds avoidable sickness and death), I raise my tiny voice against the deafening roar of the Blue Angels invading the San Francisco skies, as they have every October for far too many years.  Why? I speak on behalf of the wandering ghosts of those killed by American planes who thundered over distant skies dropping bombs and bringing death and destruction to innocents below cowering in fear. I speak on behalf of the terrified birds and woodland creatures. I speak on behalf of the American Iraq and Afghanistan war vets who will have their PTS trauma triggered and run for cover.  I speak out against the wasteful consumption of precious fossil fuels and the toxic masculine posturing of power given over to machines. Yes, there is a weird artistry to the coordinated dance of the planes, but there are other paths to artistry that bring a quieter joy and beauty without the ear-piercing deafening rumble and roar of the death machines or the burning of oil. 

 

And so I raise my tiny voice and whisper “Stop.” San Francisco, are you listening?