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0 of 3 Premium Clicks used this month SUBSCRIBE Print + Online Subscriber Activation | Register x Forgot Password | Need an Account? subscribe | newsletter | deals Classifieds Jobs Autos Real Estate FEATURED » NEWS NOW Our View: Shuttle vision ... Council Corner: In the process of revolution, does Ashland lead or react? ... Ashland church greets Cuba Caravan with potluck Thursday ... Our View: Shuttle vision ... Council Corner: In the process of revolution, does Ashland lead or react? ... Ashland church greets Cuba Caravan with potluck Thursday ... ROGUES: TALES FROM THE VALLEY Episode 18: Need activists? Go to a boomers' anti-establishment meeting Comment By Lyda Woods DailyTidings.com By Lyda Woods Posted Jan. 19, 2015 at 8:16 PM Updated Jan 26, 2015 at 2:07 PM By Lyda Woods Posted Jan. 19, 2015 at 8:16 PM Updated Jan 26, 2015 at 2:07 PM » RELATED CONTENT • Part 17: Dawn answers the call of the Rogue Sirens • Sisters talk about something other than their late, maybe not-so-great dad... • Barely bearing a brother's poetry • Yoga class ends with a bang, not a whimper • Sibling rivalry spices lunch, but affection sweetens it » Social News Part 18 of the fictionalized adventures of two sisters, Sherry and Dawn, one Medford-bred, the other Ashland-loving, and their adventures across the Rogue Valley. Find prior chapters at www.dailytidings.com. Last week, I joined the Rogue Sirens, a political art group who were planning a series of zombie-themed protests. Today, after working on several research tasks for Blue Investigations, I got a phone call from True Betterman, my favorite yoga teacher. “Hey Dawn. I hear that you joined our protest.” “You’re part of the, uh, the wolf moon group?” I felt paranoid about using their real name. “Uh, yeah, look, I could use some help recruiting people.” True was using coded language too. “Sure. I can help. I assume you’re going over to the college?” I imagined young, incensed people flocking to this cause. “SOU? Nope. We found students to be too busy.” “Where then?” “Have you ever been to an Oregon Opinions meeting?” “Who are they?” I imagined some offshoot of the Occupy movement, sending busloads of fledgling activists down from Eugene. “They meet every Thursday at First Senior Center.” “Are you kidding me?” My sneaky inner stereotypes were acting up again. “No. Dawn, these people are smart and well-read. They’re retired so they have time. They pay attention to politics. Some protested in the '60s and '70s so they know the risks and rewards. They’re committed to making southern Oregon a great place to live, especially if you are struggling.” “Ok, I’m sold. Are you picking me up?” Nothing like having one’s consciousness raised before breakfast. When we arrived at First Senior Center, lunch was in full swing, with the smell of over-cooked broccoli heavy in the air. As I looked around the dining room, I saw fragile people quietly eating, some in wheelchairs, and some with a glazed look in their eyes. But then we entered the activity room next door, where a group of loud people sat in a circle debating something. True and I grabbed chairs and joined the circle. “That’s Jeb, the leader of the group. He used to be an actor in Hollywood,” True whispered. “Let’s get back to the topic. How can we guard against these scam phone calls?” said Jeb. He looked vaguely familiar. “Mary, say something about your experience,” Jeb gestured to a petite woman with a bowed head. “I just feel so ashamed,” said Mary. “I got this call and the girl said, ‘Hello Grandma, I’m in trouble and need help, but please don’t tell Mom,’ and I thought it was Heather. I hadn’t talked with her in so long. She asked me to send her $500 through Western Union at Walmart. I almost did but then I talked to Nancy,” said Mary. “Nancy got a call too,” Jeb gestured to the woman next to Mary. “There’s a bunch of these scammers out there. ‘Your warranty has expired,’ ‘Your computer has a virus,’ ‘Discount your funeral,’ and we’re all so vulnerable,” shouted a short, pudgy man who threw his heavy book into the center of the circle. Thud! “Rusty, please, a little less theatrics,” Jeb smiled. “I really need to read this poem my wife wrote, today,” said another man, glaring at Rusty. Suddenly the smell of stale urine was over-powering, but I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Nobody acknowledged it, other than a few squinched faces. “Okay everyone, but before that, I’d like to introduce True, who’s come here to invite you to participate in a local protest march.” Jeb looked at True, who nodded and then addressed the group. “Yes, I belong to the Rogue Sirens, a political group, using art to raise awareness of issues facing our local community. We are holding a rally at the next Ashland city council meeting and we’d like to include your issues and welcome you to join us.” Next week: That spectre of an 8-foot zombie? It's just debt. (Jan. 26: The name of the locale for this episode has been changed to reinforce that characters and events depicted here are fictionalized, and not intended to accurately depict actual people and places.) By Lyda Woods DailyTidings.com By Lyda Woods Posted Jan. 19, 2015 at 8:16 PM Updated Jan 26, 2015 at 2:07 PM » Comment or view comments Reader Reaction » STAY INFORMED Email NewsLetter Sign Up Today Sign up for our newsletter and have the top headlines from your community delivered right to your inbox. Southern Oregon Directory Featured Businesses Loading... 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