When Brucie met Shonnie
I first laid eyes on Shonnie Lavender in 1995 when we both joined the Austin Fit Green Training Group for the Austin Motorola Marathon. It was August, and as usual, hot as Hades in the capitol city of Texas—highs in the upper 90s to lower 100s. Of course, Austin runners (about ten percent of the city’s population) are accustomed to being thoroughly sweat-soaked through and through by the time they hit the quarter-mile mark.
Between 20 to 30 intermediate-level runners in our group met early each Saturday morning at Town Lake. With the support of our 
coaches, we ran increasingly long distances on the trails around the lake (ultimately up to 20+ miles) in preparation for the marathon that would take place on February 18, 1996. For the record, there were also beginning and elite runners groups that trained on Saturday mornings as well.
After running together week after week for longer and longer distances, the size of our group dwindled to seven runners. Shonnie was the only remaining woman. My first recollection of the single feminine member of our group was of a very attractive, assertive woman of indeterminate age who looked pretty damned good in running tights. Our group’s theory was if we were running too fast to chat, we were running too fast. So after many hours on the trails around Town Lake, we got to know a bit about one another, and I soon learned Shonnie was in a relationship as I was at the time.
Marathon completed!
Shonnie, Jesus, Tim, Tall Bald Larry, Medium Bald Larry, Jack and I all became fast friends over the months of training together and most of us completed the marathon, though a couple of our members each ran a half of the race each due to 
injuries that had slowed their conditioning. Actually I was injured too. A week or so before the marathon I suffered a shin splint after a misstep during a nocturnal run. But I was determined to finish what I’d started, so I took a handful of Advil, put my head down and completed my first marathon in 3:52:21.
Our tight little band of athletes continued running together, though not as regularly or as far. And in addition to our long runs on Saturdays, we began participating in the Tuesday and Thursday afternoon training sessions sponsored by Run-Tex. On Tuesdays speed workouts at the local track, and on Thursdays hill repeats, though in Austin finding a decent hill was not a simple task.
The plot thickens
I spent a good deal of the summer of 1996 in New York City with my girlfriend Carolyn, a time of deep learning about relationships for both of us. And upon my return to Austin in July I had several phone messages from Shonnie inviting me to rejoin our training group in preparation for the 1997 Motorola Marathon. Little did I know at the time she was really inviting me to something else entirely.
In August 1996, after picking up a few new runners, we regrouped and began training again in earnest. And we began to hang out a bit socially as well, usually heading to nearby Magnolia Cafe for pancakes after our long run on Saturday mornings.
I was involved in the Life Training program (a personal growth program later renamed More to Life), and I invited my running buddies to attend an introductory presentation. The interactive presentation was led by Ann McMaster, one of the program’s senior trainers. At one point during the evening, attendees had an opportunity to ask questions, and Shonnie stood up, made a comment and asked a very perceptive question. Though I don’t remember what she asked, I do remember thinking “Hey, this is not just some ditzy blonde.” There was a depth and wisdom that I hadn’t anticipated from a 25-year-old, and my perception of Shonnie shifted significantly in that moment.
Synchronicity strikes
The Green Group all planned to go out for a few beers and some music one Saturday night in early September. But that morning over pancakes after our long run, everyone backed out . . . except me and Shonnie. Whether the Universe 
conspired that day, you’ll have to decide. For, despite the fact there were only two of us, we decided to go forward with our plans. We chose on a small venue that offered music, poetry and cold Shiner Bock. I’d pick her up at 7:00 p.m.
As we were paying the cover, I lightheartedly requested the senior discount (I was 53 at the time.). The woman taking our money said, “Yeah, I see a little gray on you, but I’m not so sure about your daughter there.”
We enjoyed the music and most of the poetry, and as the evening progressed, this excursion became more and more like a date than merely two running buddies out on the town. And it seemed even more so when my hand on Shonnie’s knee was favorably received. I think there was merely a simple “good night” hand squeeze when I dropped Shonnie off at her condo. I don’t really remember. But I do know that my interest had been piqued. And I’d discovered that Shonnie was no longer “involved.”
At Shonnie’s suggestion, we went to a play together the next week—a dramatized version of “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” After the play, Shonnie said she wanted to slow things down, that she was concerned that we might be moving too fast. Somewhat puzzled, I told her that was OK with me.
A few days later Shonnie called. “What are you doing?” she asked amiably.
“Getting ready to have dinner and watch a movie with Pamela (my housemate),” I replied.
“Can I come over?” Shonnie asked.
Pamela knew and liked Shonnie, and we invited her to join us. We three had an enjoyable evening together, and after Shonnie left, I found myself a bit puzzled. I asked Pamela, “What do you think she wants?” “It’s pretty damned clear, big boy; she wants you.” Pamela drolly responded.
Love walks in
Events progressed in no way slowly after that. Seeing which direction this budding romance was heading, I called Carolyn in NYC. I told her of my attraction for Shonnie and asked if she saw any chance of a future for the two of us. Carolyn’s answer was “no.” So we acknowledged one another for how together we’d become more artful in the ways of relationships and for the other undeniable benefits of our time together. At the conclusion of our conversation, we vowed to remain steadfast friends.
Over the next few weeks, it became apparent that Shonnie possessed the most important attributes I wanted in a significant other—she was compassionate, honest, authentic, committed to personal/spiritual growth, physically attractive, athletic, passionate, vegetarian, willing to make 100 percent commitment to our relationship . . . the list goes on. After attending a breath workshop on the University of Texas campus, I told Shonnie I loved her for the first time. “I love you too,” she tenderly replied. We kissed and held each other on that balmy summer afternoon, totally oblivious to anything going on around us. Yes, we were in love!
Subsequently, we began spending a few nights a week together, sometimes at my place, sometimes at hers. Later in the fall of 1996 we decided to fully commit to our relationship and to move in together on January 1, 1997. In the process of doing so, however, we got to deal with some mindtalk, especially about our age difference (approximately 28 years): “Yikes, this will never work; she’s younger than my daughter!” “My parents will never go for this—when I’m 50, he’s going to be 78!” And so on. The vast majority of the chatter between our ears proved to be BS, of course. The truth was that we loved one another, and that was what mattered most.
Committing to a life together
Because we wanted to be intentional about our relationship and living together, we made commitments about how we would be with one another (treat one another with love and respect, tell the truth, practice 
forgiveness, keep our personal space clean, etc.), how we would live together (create a warm and inviting space that works for both of us and reflects who we truly are) and how we’d treat the feline members of our new family—Attabi, Aurora, Kaali and Chocolate (love and protect each of them and treat each as our own).
On January 1, 1997, we read our intentions and commitments aloud to one another, gave the kitties some space to get to know each other, replaced Shonnie’s coffee table with mine, expanded a bit on Shonnie’s usual menu of cereal, salad and baked potatoes and enthusiastically settled in to our life together.
This post was written in honor of Shonnie’s 38th birthday (12/28/09) and the 13th anniversary of our life together.
Wednesday, December 30th, 2009How Cecil Won: The Shifting Political Landscape in Asheville
Last Tuesday I watched as Cecil Bothwell took his place on the Asheville (NC) City Council along with the other newly-elected members, Gordon Smith and Esther Manheimer. Nowhere present was H.K. Edgerton, the man who’d outspokenly
opposed the seating of Bothwell, because as Edgerton sees it, the new councilperson didn’t profess the proper religious beliefs.
Frankly, one of the reasons I strongly supported Cecil for City Council is the fact that he refuses to engage in disingenuous piety and sanctimonious nostrums for political advantage as so many seem willing to do. Besides, isn’t Edgerton, the former president of the local branch of the NAACP, something of a comic (some might say tragic) figure—a black man all dressed up in Confederate regalia with no place to go?
Anyway, Cecil’s affirmation of office took place without a hitch, and a raucous cheer went up from the assembly of supporters in council chambers. An historic moment in Asheville history was taking place before our eyes: The political power of the old Courthouse Gang (and the privileged, middle-aged white men they typically handpicked as candidates) was waning. In fact, none of the two council candidates they’d supported even came close to being elected. Out of the ashes, a new political reality was being born. Capitalizing on grassroots organizing, innovative use of the Internet and other lessons from the 2008 Obama campaign, empowered citizens chose the three most progressive candidates in the race.
Why Cecil won
The major reason Cecil won was because of his own tireless efforts. For all practical purposes, he’d been campaigning for the better part of two years, first for Buncombe County Board of Commissioners in 2008 (losing out by a miniscule margin), then for Asheville City Council this year. For more than six months during the campaign for city council, he went to meetings, gave speeches, participated in forums, knocked on doors, made phone calls, spoke with citizens one-on-one
and in small groups, rallied the volunteers, hosted strategy sessions, wrote newsletters and blog posts and much, much more. I’ve never seen a more intense and resolute effort by a local candidate.
There were those who spread rumors about Cecil and his supposed motives for running for council. The camp of one candidate told everyone who’d listen that Cecil was not a team player. In the comments section of some local blogs and websites, some accused Cecil of being egotistical and self-absorbed. However, anyone who really knows Cecil understood that these charges were merely attempts to sabotage his candidacy.
Let’s face it: how could someone who wasn’t a genuine team player attract several hundred passionate and committed volunteers to canvass, call, cook, write, distribute yard signs, work at the polling places, etc. week after week? How could a candidate who knocked on countless doors himself, made phone calls too numerous to count, constructed his own yard signs, created campaign buttons in his living room and made campaign decisions by consensus be regarded as anything but unpretentious and egalitarian? Highly intelligent? Absolutely. Self confident? Most assuredly. Visionary? No question about it. Self-important or arrogant? Not a chance.
John Huie speaks
John Huie, legendary leader of the North Carolina Outward Bound School (mid-1970s to mid-1990s) and former executive director of the Environmental Leadership Center at Warren Wilson College, powerfully expressed his reasons for supporting Cecil in an October 26 letter to the Asheville Citizen-Times:
During the 25 years Cecil Bothwell has lived in our community, he has been fearless in taking stands, some of which were unpopular at the time.
Cecil organized opposition to the Iraq War even before it began. He challenged the city’s law against panhandling as unconstitutional infringement on free speech. He helped block construction of the Grove Park Inn high-rise on City/County Plaza. And he put his life at risk investigating and reporting on the criminal activity of Sheriff Bobby Lee Medford, helping bring the former sheriff to justice.
I know Cecil Bothwell to be a person of integrity, one who cares profoundly about our society and about the democracy we all claim to cherish. I know of Cecil’s tireless efforts among those who are poor, imprisoned, homeless, and without hope. This is a man of clear vision, compassionate outlook, and a passion for social justice. He is a man who not only talks and writes about democracy and the loving community but also works and sweats in a myriad of creative ways to make the words flesh.
We have a name for the Cecil Bothwells of the world: we call them citizens.
Putting the new politics to work
Following the Asheville primary on October 6, in which Cecil, Gordon and Esther finished 1, 2 and 3, I wrote a letter to the editor of the Citizen-Times (10/19/09) about the outcome and how it was achieved. I think it still expresses the shift that has occurred in our local politics.
In times past, many seeking elected office seemed to be trying to sell us something, as if we, the citizens, were merely compliant consumers. Conventional political wisdom called for candidates to appear affable and knowledgeable while uttering vague generalities, to craft a clever and alluring message and to broadcast that message to the masses, all in the hope that we would buy what they were selling. Well, thankfully those days are behind us.
The arrival of a new era in Asheville politics was clearly demonstrated by the victories attained by Cecil Bothwell and Gordon Smith in the city council primary on October 6. These wins were built on hard and smart work by both candidates, sizeable teams of deeply committed volunteers and the grassroots organizing skills many of them gained working in Obama’s 2008 campaign.
It is apparent that ordinary citizens now realize the power they possess and are using it to excellent advantage to elect authentic leaders—leaders who understand the needs of working people, leaders who will be honest and transparent, leaders who will involve us in the decision-making process on matters that directly affect us, leaders who will remember how they got into office once elected.
The swiftboaters misfire . . . and sink out of sight
Then, of course, there was the pathetic and futile effort by Chris Peterson, Cecil Cantrell and their Common Sense in Government PAC to smear Cecil and brand him as Satan’s helper. This inept swiftboating scheme with its primitive and ill-conceived mailers resembled something that might have been created by high school kids in the 1970s.
In his October 30 letter to the Citizen-Times, Tebbe Davis did an excellent job of deconstructing Peterson and Cantrell’s smear campaign:
It appears elements of the conservative right are up to their usual tricks in this year’s city election. Fliers attacking City Council candidate Cecil Bothwell recently were sent through the mail to local voters by a group working under the name “Common Sense in Government.” I did a little research and found that the organization is headed by Chris Peterson, a video poker machine operator when Bobby Medford was Buncombe County sheriff, and Cecil Cantrell, a supporter of Medford’s.
It’s useful to remember that it was Bothwell’s investigative reporting that helped bring Medford to justice and put him behind bars for 15 years for extortion, money laundering and conspiracy related to illegal video poker machine businesses. Coincidence? Perhaps, but in a small city like this I doubt it.
Furthermore, Cantrell has been deeply involved in the “swiftboating” of progressive candidates in previous city elections. Let’s show these dirty tricksters that such outdated and irresponsible techniques are best dumped in the dustbin of history. Let’s go to the polls and elect Cecil Bothwell and other progressive candidates, leaders who will help move our community forward during these challenging times.
Old and stale political scare tactics are not going to work here.
Records at the Buncombe County Board of Elections show that Peterson, Cantrell and others actually spent several thousand dollars during the campaign, but this time Asheville voters weren’t falling for their duplicity. Despite the time, money and energy expended, the ill-fated PAC failed to affect the outcome of the election in any way.
Going forward
I’ve said this before, but I think it bears repeating. As the people’s representative on Asheville City Council, I believe Cecil will consistently and courageously take a stand for:
- the rights of every citizen regardless of sexual orientation, ethnic origin, socio-economic status, political belief, religious/spiritual faith or lifestyle,
- the health of our planet and all its inhabitants and
- the creation of a community that works for all of us.
Furthermore, I believe Cecil will provide leadership that is principled, effective, accountable, transparent, inclusive and predicated on citizen participation. He will work with us and his fellow council members to create a truly sustainable community, including smart growth, protection of our city’s natural beauty, green jobs and action to help curb climate change.
Perhaps most importantly, Cecil is one of us—someone who lives among us, someone who understands our wants and needs, someone who will readily hear us when we speak.
But it’s not just up to our elected leaders to take the actions required in these challenging times; it’s up to us too. Let’s get behind Cecil, Gordon, Esther, Brownie, Jan, Bill and Terry and help create the Asheville we want to see.
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