Back in 1998 I went down to Washington with my father. The ostensible purpose was to visit my cousin in Annapolis. My secondary reason was to protest against the World bank with the Free Tibet Society. My father said go on and my cousin gave me his pass to park at the National geographic at which he’s the editor. The drive is was untroubled, although I noticed quite a few black Ford Suburban SUVs rolling into town. Mostly packed with crew-cut men. Reinforcements for the DC police. I hadn’t been in the capitol for ages. Maybe 20 years and it was to drink at the tag o Keg on Wisconsin Avenue with my friend Tom McNelly. He and I had attended several antiwar demonstrations during the early 70s. I tried calling his number in Virginia from outside the National Geographic. It was disconnected, so I started searching through the gathering crowds for my Tibetan friends. It was an impossible task and I found myself in front of the World Bank HQ as the buses were bringing in the delegates. A phalanx on cops pushed us back.
I said, “Hey, I’m moving.
The cop in front of me jabbed my stomach with his nightstick. I had had enough and retreated to the National Geographic parking lot, where I retrieved my car and drove back to Annapolis to drink wine and eat soft-shelled crab by the harbor. My father asked how it went.
I told him, “As I expected.”
Nothing had changed, but at least I made the effort and I’m glad people are doing the same in London.
Free Tibet.
No one will be running the olympic flame through Pattaya
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