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“Fire” works for the 4th? This Just Doesn’t Dew
This was not the barbecue we had in mind for Dewers this fourth of July. A small fire at the LikeTheDew web-hosting provider’s data center on fireworks-eve knocked us offline leaving our readers without their independent morning Dewsletter on Independence Day. It also left many Independence Day stories homeless and now a bit dated.
Ironically, the fire demonstrated our dependence, after all. Yes, we are dependent upon consistent technology to support home delivery of The Dew. It is a reminder of the need for back-up systems (we dew – multiple and off-site), alternative providers (we don’t afford), and a preparedness plan (we will) for such unexpected events. Readiness is especially important to small arts organizations, whose ability to provide continuity in the face of emergencies is extremely important.
As one “Dewer” wrote, “It’s terrible to be voiceless and powerless, isn’t it? I miss our site.”
Another consoled, “…happy to hear it’s not tragic. For instance, if Manuel’s was closed July 4th.”
The Southern Arts Federation (SAF) is building a strong case — and equally strong support system, for readiness and business continuity among literary, visual and performing arts; and folk-art organizations. The SAF web site offers on-line planning tools, case studies, assistance, and other resources for Southern arts organizations to use in creating their own, unique plan for preparedness and recovery. Katrina’s devastation of the New Orleans’ arts and culture community is the most vivid and recent reminder of such a need. Speaking of reminders, hurricane season officially began on June 1. Thankfully, not one storm formed in June. Whew, only five more months to go …
Let’s all get ready, and put this fire, or flood, or power loss, out before it starts. Welcome back to LikeTheDew.
Worthy of Comment
Also on the Dew
I knew I liked him early on by the way he told a joke. He had timing and delivery and the punch line was not telegraphed. Whenever I get off my mountain, I’m alert to serendipitous opportunities to meet such people and to get a peek into their lives. So on a recent trip to Atlanta for a couple of woodworking classes, I had the pleasure of spending a few nights with a dear friend in Asheville, one of the world’s finest and most civilized of cities. My friend is also a fine lady and like her adopted city, most civ Read on →
Last month I was on assignment in a remote place, the kind of place where you see trucks and tractors but few cars. Farm territory. I parked along a weedy, poorly maintained road and as I stepped from the car I saw a sight from childhood. A tangled thicket of briars with succulent, shiny blackberries glistening like onyx pendants. Red berries, hard and yet to ripen, waited their turn for sunshine to do its magic. Seeing this explosion of blackberries brought back childhood memories. Pickin’ berries was great fun, a tradition. You’d reach into the briars and pluck a big berry, pop Read on →
One night about three years ago when Jake was five, I was settling him to sleep with a book about Chicken Licken. I hadn’t met her before but Jake knew her well. When we got to the end of the book and he asked for another story, I was too tired to fetch another book, and didn’t want to disturb his sleepy state, so I made up a variation on this theme. We lay with our eyes closed, imagining. Taking the character’s name in vain, we casually began to invent life situations and adventures for Chicken Licken. “Chicken Licken goes to school” Read on →
There were superficial reasons—when he thundered on the political scene at the Democratic Convention in 2004 and then rode on the wave of that thunder to his election in 2008—to compare Barack Obama with Abraham Lincoln. There was the Illinois connection, for instance, and the gifted orator connection, and the “new birth of freedom” connection. Add to these the evident high esteem, even reverence, held by Obama for that towering mentor of his spirit, and it is easy to link the two of them. But what about things deeper than the surface? A sobering intimation arose in me, in the wake of the Read on →