Granted, my future isn’t all that long term, but there are loads of people I love who are looking decades ahead. I’ve always been a political junkie starting when I was a child and watching the party conventions on our grainy black and white console television. Oh, the anxiety! Who was going to garner enough votes to be the party’s nominee? Maybe, they already knew who would win, but I was clueless and glued to it until the end.
And, since this president was elected, I cannot watch the national news or cable shows on any kind of regular basis, because if HE comes on, I just want to destroy the television. Every day, he is more disgusting than the last. His chumminess with Putin and the Saudi prince is outrageous. It’s worse than that. He is downright dangerous.
So, of course, I tuned in to the debates on Wednesday and Thursday to see twenty candidates for the Democratic presidential nomination. 20?! And, that’s not all of them. Several I was hearing for the first time. And, truth be known, I was positively impressed. However, how impressive are they if they have one minute to speak? A debate stage with 20 people does not make for a true debate.
The first night erred on the side of civility with few exceptions. Julian went after Beto, but, then, everyone goes after Beto. I’m not sure breaking out in Spanish was the best idea when you only have a minute to get your policies across. But, once Beto opened that door, Julian and Cory were quick to follow. Really? There’s another reason I’m not one of the 20. My Spanish is limited to “hola.”
Elizabeth was great. At least, she didn’t start speaking in Cherokee. Her knowledge is exceptional. She has taken up the Bernie mantle, but sounds more intelligent and a helluva less strident than him. Cory was excellent. Julian was pretty commanding also. I always thought Hilary really missed the boat when she didn’t pick him or Joaquin for her running mate.
Amy just couldn’t get it done. Yes, she is pragmatic and knows what being progressive truly is. It is a progression. It’s a movement, not a revolution. God knows, we’re being subjected to a regression that is hurting our country and our standing in the world. But, sad to say, Amy has no charisma. Nor did Hilary. I hate that it comes down to that, but it does. That is reality. We have to have a ticket that people will get off their butts and campaign and vote for. I don’t think it’s Amy.
That’s pretty much my impression of Wednesday’s candidates and then there was Thursday. The night of the big dogs. The night where civility took a back seat, sad to say. Kamala took off the gloves and went straight for Joe’s jugular. And, now we know why she was an effective prosecutor and attorney general. Obviously, she had, with her staff, practiced that attack for weeks, waiting for the opening. She took it and he was completely blindsided. She pretty much emasculated him. Poor Joe showed his age that night. Where was his staff? How could he or they not have anticipated this?
I’m not sure how this will all play out in the polls. But, I felt for Joe, especially, after his active and unwavering support for her for years. I will say this, however, when it comes to duking it out with Big Baby, I want Kamala in the ring. Not sure good ole Joe is up to this.
The guy I loved the most was Mayor Pete. Just an all around good guy with heart and a command of the issues who was honest enough to know he hadn’t got it all done as Mayor. How refreshing to hear that instead or a candidate ignoring the question or going on the defensive or citing anecdotes that have absolutely nothing to do with the subject at hand.
As I’m writing this, I just got a text asking me how likely I am to vote for Kamala. That’s a no brainer.
I’m so done with Bernie. He needs new writers. It’s the same old script from 2016. Now, it’s like he’s doing a caricature of himself. I will say he appeared to have a whole lot more energy than Joe but he needs to pass the baton. Plus, he’s not even a Democrat. Done, done, done.
Marianne. Where to start. My fellow aging hippie and spiritual practitioner. I have no problem marrying spiritualism and politics, but when they ask you what’s the first thing you would do on day one of your administration, don’t say you’d call the prime minister of New Zealand to tell her the USA is the best place for a child to grow up, not New Zealand. Harnessing love for political purposes is a noble goal, I grant you that. Yet, you were so out of our element up there, you became the darling of the Republican Party, who has called on the troops to contribute ‘bigly’ to your campaign. They want you to stay up there on that stage.
Of course, there’s so much more to write about on this subject, which will keep us glued to our 52” flat screens for months on end. All I can say is that the Democratic Party cannot afford to be fighting between moderates and progressives. This is so much bigger than that. Make your peace, stay unified and take back our democracy!
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Thursday, June 20, 2019
You're So Vain
Remember that Carly Simon tune? “You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you.” Setting off decades of debate about which egomaniac she was referring to….Warren Beatty, Mick Jagger, James Taylor.
I can relate to that song. Yes, I’m so vain. Okay, there it is. I owned it. And I am certain that is one of my life lessons I have yet to master.
I’m not crazy. I know I’m not one of the world’s great beauties. I know I’m over 70 years old. I know I don’t look like I did at 30. But, still, I fight aging every day. I do that daily workout. I use moisturizer. I wouldn’t be caught dead without my eyeliner and mascara. I do that intermittent fasting to get to my goal weight, which I haven’t met yet.
Do you have a phone with facial recognition technology? OMG!! I was completely mortified when I had to look in the phone and move my head in a slow circle to capture my image. Who is that old hag??!!! All I can say is my bathroom mirror gives me a whole lot of slack. I look so much better in that mirror!
Basically, I try to avoid mirrors. Especially, those full body mirrors when you’re exiting the shower. I was a skinny Minnie until after the birth of my second child in my mid-30s. And the another one close behind. Never to recover skinny status again.
I try, though. It is hard work. I weigh myself every morning and when I got off the cruise ship in March, I was horrified. Had to shift into high gear with the fasting and sticking to my no chips, no fries, no booze diet. After two months, I had lost 10 pounds and was two pounds from my goal weight.
I have to admit, I love my red wine. There were times I would drink for hours and play bridge online. Of course, I did this in concert with a bag of Lay’s Classic potato chips. Not smart. I think I am genetically predisposed to alcoholism. One of my very smart cousin’s recognized this over 20 years ago and hasn’t had a drink since.
Now, I’ve finally discovered discipline. Primarily, it’s because I want to lose weight and keep it off. It’s all about vanity. But, truthfully, I don’t miss drinking. Occasionally, I’ll have one 5-ounce glass on a Friday afternoon after bridge and it takes me all night to recover. It begs the question, what’s the point?
Remember when Nora Ephron wrote I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman? I loved that book! I tell you, she was my idol. Her descriptions on aging were hilarious and so right on. I could write a book about how I hate my arms.
I’ve always had skinny arms but now they’re skinny with sagging skin. Not pretty. I do resistance exercises at least three days a week to try to halt the damage but there’s no stopping it. I only wear sleeveless clothing when I’m home and nobody’s on the docket. When I leave the house, I’m wearing sleeves.
How I admire those women who just don’t seem to give a damn. There’s a woman at my bridge club who comes sleeveless every day of the week and my arms are like a bodybuilder’s in comparison. Then, there are the completely uninhibited beach bods. Mentally I’m pleading with them to cover that up but impressed that they seem to be oblivious. Why can’t I take a page from their book?
Fortunately, I don’t obsess with these things, but I’m pretty sure it’s a life lesson I'm still learning. I think the lesson is about acceptance. Just accept the way things are. Yes, I’m going to continue aging, so concentrate less on the exterior and more on the interior. Move inward.
I'm working on it.
I can relate to that song. Yes, I’m so vain. Okay, there it is. I owned it. And I am certain that is one of my life lessons I have yet to master.
I’m not crazy. I know I’m not one of the world’s great beauties. I know I’m over 70 years old. I know I don’t look like I did at 30. But, still, I fight aging every day. I do that daily workout. I use moisturizer. I wouldn’t be caught dead without my eyeliner and mascara. I do that intermittent fasting to get to my goal weight, which I haven’t met yet.
Do you have a phone with facial recognition technology? OMG!! I was completely mortified when I had to look in the phone and move my head in a slow circle to capture my image. Who is that old hag??!!! All I can say is my bathroom mirror gives me a whole lot of slack. I look so much better in that mirror!
Basically, I try to avoid mirrors. Especially, those full body mirrors when you’re exiting the shower. I was a skinny Minnie until after the birth of my second child in my mid-30s. And the another one close behind. Never to recover skinny status again.
I try, though. It is hard work. I weigh myself every morning and when I got off the cruise ship in March, I was horrified. Had to shift into high gear with the fasting and sticking to my no chips, no fries, no booze diet. After two months, I had lost 10 pounds and was two pounds from my goal weight.
I have to admit, I love my red wine. There were times I would drink for hours and play bridge online. Of course, I did this in concert with a bag of Lay’s Classic potato chips. Not smart. I think I am genetically predisposed to alcoholism. One of my very smart cousin’s recognized this over 20 years ago and hasn’t had a drink since.
Now, I’ve finally discovered discipline. Primarily, it’s because I want to lose weight and keep it off. It’s all about vanity. But, truthfully, I don’t miss drinking. Occasionally, I’ll have one 5-ounce glass on a Friday afternoon after bridge and it takes me all night to recover. It begs the question, what’s the point?
Remember when Nora Ephron wrote I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman? I loved that book! I tell you, she was my idol. Her descriptions on aging were hilarious and so right on. I could write a book about how I hate my arms.
I’ve always had skinny arms but now they’re skinny with sagging skin. Not pretty. I do resistance exercises at least three days a week to try to halt the damage but there’s no stopping it. I only wear sleeveless clothing when I’m home and nobody’s on the docket. When I leave the house, I’m wearing sleeves.
How I admire those women who just don’t seem to give a damn. There’s a woman at my bridge club who comes sleeveless every day of the week and my arms are like a bodybuilder’s in comparison. Then, there are the completely uninhibited beach bods. Mentally I’m pleading with them to cover that up but impressed that they seem to be oblivious. Why can’t I take a page from their book?
Fortunately, I don’t obsess with these things, but I’m pretty sure it’s a life lesson I'm still learning. I think the lesson is about acceptance. Just accept the way things are. Yes, I’m going to continue aging, so concentrate less on the exterior and more on the interior. Move inward.
I'm working on it.
Thursday, June 13, 2019
On Religion
In the teeny tiny Florida town I was raised in, you were either Methodist or Baptist. We were Methodist packed into a wood frame building seated with our father, dressed in our Sunday best, while our mother glared at us from the choir loft daring us to misbehave. We were sweating bullets, waving our Jesus Saves hand fans back and forth hoping for a little air to make the atmosphere a little more comfortable.
We were Methodist until the summer, when we attended the Baptist Vacation Bible School. For two weeks, we got on that ramshackle school bus that took us to and from the Pine Castle Baptist Church. Lots of crafts, songs, games, I loved it. On the last day, there was a grand assembly in the Baptist Church which all the parents and assorted townspeople attended. I was only five years old the first time I went and clearly unschooled in Baptist rituals.
Each child was called forward to the altar and the preacher hollered, “ARE YOU SAVED?” Of course, they answered in the affirmative and he dunked their heads in a tank of water. When it was my turn, I looked at him and responded in a puzzled voice, “Saved from what?” The congregation erupted. I was completely confused by the whole scene.
And, thus, began my retreat from religion. I was raised in the Bible Belt which held what most would consider the most racist and misogynistic views in the entire country. How does that jibe with “Love one another” or “Above all, love each other deeply.” Or “Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above ourselves.” What I witnessed was black people dominated by white people and segregated by Jim Crow laws. What I witnessed were men in all the power positions, while ladies were expected to be submissive. The church provided the foundation for this culture.
If you didn’t toe the line, you were going to rot in hell. I could never square the lessons of love with the lessons of hate, hellfire and damnation. It just made no sense to me.
So, I majored in religion and philosophy, where I studied all the world religions and read the works of the greatest theologians, although I think I was way too young to truly assimilate it all.
But it certainly altered my world view. I believed there were many enlightened prophets. And, although there are multiple religions, there are certain tenets that hold true for all of them. They believe in leading an ethical life, being part of a community centered in love and striving to do good works.
Unfortunately, belief in a religion creates tension in the world that can lead to war. It is sadly evident all over the globe today. It is no guarantee against the most egregious abuse toward children and women. What has happened in the Catholic and Southern Baptist communities is reprehensible. How many lives have been upended due to the lack of accountability of these so called spiritual leaders?
And, yet, I did choose to attend the Episcopal Church with my husband and younger children. It did give them a loving community that supported them through the tough days after their father died. Being in the church reinforced the ethical values we espoused. The healing rituals affected me profoundly when I was caring for him as his health faded.
And, yet, it’s so much greater than what we know, my uncle acknowledged in a reading shortly after he passed. He was a devout Catholic. Then, there’s my mother who was the world’s leading authority on religion. Until she passed last year. Now, what does she say? “There is no religion.”
A couple of weeks ago, I came across a writer, Roland Merullo, who I have fallen in love with. I finished Breakfast With Buddha last week. Now, I’m having Lunch With Buddha and, in a week or so, I’ll savor Dinner With Buddha. An editor of food books who lives in New York and a skeptic, reluctantly goes onto a road trip with Volya Rinpoche, a Siberian monk. I haven’t read a book that made me laugh out loud in years and, yet, brought me back to the significance of meditation and tuning in to life’s lessons.
It’s all an evolution, right?
We were Methodist until the summer, when we attended the Baptist Vacation Bible School. For two weeks, we got on that ramshackle school bus that took us to and from the Pine Castle Baptist Church. Lots of crafts, songs, games, I loved it. On the last day, there was a grand assembly in the Baptist Church which all the parents and assorted townspeople attended. I was only five years old the first time I went and clearly unschooled in Baptist rituals.
Each child was called forward to the altar and the preacher hollered, “ARE YOU SAVED?” Of course, they answered in the affirmative and he dunked their heads in a tank of water. When it was my turn, I looked at him and responded in a puzzled voice, “Saved from what?” The congregation erupted. I was completely confused by the whole scene.
And, thus, began my retreat from religion. I was raised in the Bible Belt which held what most would consider the most racist and misogynistic views in the entire country. How does that jibe with “Love one another” or “Above all, love each other deeply.” Or “Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above ourselves.” What I witnessed was black people dominated by white people and segregated by Jim Crow laws. What I witnessed were men in all the power positions, while ladies were expected to be submissive. The church provided the foundation for this culture.
If you didn’t toe the line, you were going to rot in hell. I could never square the lessons of love with the lessons of hate, hellfire and damnation. It just made no sense to me.
So, I majored in religion and philosophy, where I studied all the world religions and read the works of the greatest theologians, although I think I was way too young to truly assimilate it all.
But it certainly altered my world view. I believed there were many enlightened prophets. And, although there are multiple religions, there are certain tenets that hold true for all of them. They believe in leading an ethical life, being part of a community centered in love and striving to do good works.
Unfortunately, belief in a religion creates tension in the world that can lead to war. It is sadly evident all over the globe today. It is no guarantee against the most egregious abuse toward children and women. What has happened in the Catholic and Southern Baptist communities is reprehensible. How many lives have been upended due to the lack of accountability of these so called spiritual leaders?
And, yet, I did choose to attend the Episcopal Church with my husband and younger children. It did give them a loving community that supported them through the tough days after their father died. Being in the church reinforced the ethical values we espoused. The healing rituals affected me profoundly when I was caring for him as his health faded.
And, yet, it’s so much greater than what we know, my uncle acknowledged in a reading shortly after he passed. He was a devout Catholic. Then, there’s my mother who was the world’s leading authority on religion. Until she passed last year. Now, what does she say? “There is no religion.”
A couple of weeks ago, I came across a writer, Roland Merullo, who I have fallen in love with. I finished Breakfast With Buddha last week. Now, I’m having Lunch With Buddha and, in a week or so, I’ll savor Dinner With Buddha. An editor of food books who lives in New York and a skeptic, reluctantly goes onto a road trip with Volya Rinpoche, a Siberian monk. I haven’t read a book that made me laugh out loud in years and, yet, brought me back to the significance of meditation and tuning in to life’s lessons.
It’s all an evolution, right?
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