I’ve been at home for three weeks now. Getting ready to head out now, so the things I’ve experienced here have been amazing.  Seeing all of my old friends, hanging out at my old haunts, helping out as much as I’m motivated to with the Occupy Harrisburg. It’s like I’ve come back with new eyes.

I’ve witnessed some crazy ridiculous things since I’ve been back, a woman shouting at a cashier, a child screaming over money to a cashier,  a guy being pushed up against a car while a metal bat clangs to the ground.  The way the problems of Occupations are original but in no way singular.  The interactions of old friends since I’ve been gone. I don’t know if I would’ve noticed, or believed the importance of such occurrences.

May Day I join the guys from Miami as they drive into the city.  There is an action before the larger march.  It is dubbed a Black Bloc march by the press. But from my understanding it’s more of a tour of the banks in the city. As we walk from bank to bank, bike cops ride down the side of the street next to us. There might have been around 100 to 150 people, but knowing how these protests go, the number of people shifts and sways like the vision down a road on a hot day.

Not sure if it’s an organizer for the march, or someone with just a good idea, but they ask for about seven or ten of us to run up ahead towards the next bank.  Well, it’s not a run, just a scamper.  A good portion of the bike cops break off to keep pace with us.  We stop in front of  a Chase bank where a few of the police have already blocked the entrance for us.  They declare the sidewalk in front of the bank closed and we’re not allowed in.  So, we amuse ourselves by singing and playing the hokey-pokey in front of stern faced lawmen.

After about ten minutes of baiting and jabs, the march catches up with us.  That’s when I realize that our scamper was a diversionary tactic for the main group to take to the streets without fear of kettling. Hooray for craftyness.

We march through the rest of the street to the park where the larger march is to take place.  There is a whoop and a cheer when we approach and we melt into the group.  Thousands of people fill up the park, Food Not Bombs has made some really tasty vegan burritos, various people walk around handing out flyers to all those attending.  A shirtless guy with many tattoos yells at another guy with a circle of black clad people uncomfortably looking on. Several organizers or those good at deescalation quickly defuse the situation.

Then of course, I have the urge to use the bathroom. The line is a good thirty people deep so of course this is going to be an exercise in self control.  A guy with braided hair hands me a card telling about the Mayday after-party at a place called Multi-kulti. Then I notice the line of floats starting to move forward and a large horn telling people to gather up for the beginning of the march.  There are still about twenty people in line, the pressure in my bladder is still building. . .

 

My computer time is almost up, and I have no idea when I’ll be back at a computer. I’ve already been typing up several posts saved as drafts so y’know, maybe there’ll be more posts when I get a computer of my own. Anywho, time to travel back to Chicago.

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