War Protest Today Begins at Mockingbird Station. West Village Breathes Sigh of Relief.
By now, you surely know to avoid the intersections of Mockingbird Lane and North Central Expressway beginning around 5 p.m. today; yeah, if you need something at Mockingbird Station -- oh, I dunno, a new sofa or something from American Apparel -- you'd best tend to it before this evening. Otherwise, you might get stuck in the "pro-peace rally," as it's being called by organizers, that kicks off at Mockingbird Station only to wind its way westbound on Mockingbird to Potomac Park -- you know, behind the La Madeleine. C'mon -- where they're putting that George W. Bush Presidential Library, which will be a "symbol of the misinformation spread by the Bush administration leading up to the invasion of Iraq."
Of course, that same missive we got late last week also insists, "This is not an anti-Bush protest, nor an 'anti-war' protest. It is a rally calling for peace and for the end of violence in Iraq specifically. (Would you call a pro-life demonstration 'anti-choice' or a pro-choice demonstration 'anti-life'?) Many who are on board are protesting the Bush think tank, as well." The Potomac Park event sounds particularly retro: "Musicians, poets and speakers will perform at an open mic block party, including Bill McDannell, a VIETNAM VET and former pastor of the UMC who is walking from California to D.C. for peace. Tables will be set up for artisans and activists to present their wares."
You want more info about the rally, visit this site. You want more info about Bill McDannell, well, there's actually a story about him today in the San Diego Union-Tribune. I visited his site this morning too, and from the sound of his journals, he's having a swell time walking the country to protest the war. Last night he slept at the Southside on Lamar lofts, where some of the rally organizers live, dined with folks on a meal of "kabobs, roasted corn and Greek potato salad," then "sat and talked while the Dallas skyline glittered around us." That's called walking a thousand miles for a kabob. --Robert Wilonsky