Absolutely Not

That was TBG's response to whether we should watch the Joint Session of Congress.

I was conflicted.  I always watch them, if only to take the pulse of the listeners.  Sometimes there's drama, and I don't mind seeing it in real time.  POTUS deserves to be heard..... or at least until FFOTUS.

On our walk this morning, I asked Taos Bubbe about her plans.  Absolutely not! came out of her mouth before I finished the question.  She'll catch snippets if they appear on her internet feed, but the thought of spending time with that man made her physically ill.

The notion of self-care by avoiding all things FFOTUS suddenly became front and center for me.  Bluesky and Substack are filled with outrage that is nigh on impossible to ignore.  1440  is unbiased but the links lead to others and suddenly I'm drowning in the slime.  

It drives TBG nuts.  This morning, as I regaled him with the latest outrage, he asked Why do you do this to yourself?  This afternoon, I really had no answer.

I had lunch with The 250K Cruise Club today. We were four ladies-who-lunch, on the patio of the Arizona Inn, loudly and passionately expressing our disgust for FFOTUS.  It is uncertain if we changed anyone's mind, but no one could doubt our feelings.

One of us will watch it, and if it makes me vomit at least I'll be alone and no one will notice.  One will watch until it becomes too painful, one will, like TBG, catch the news reports in the morning.  I couldn't articulate why I felt guilty about skipping it, but my friends helped me dissect it.

I'm an American.  This is an American thing.  Democracy depends on participation.  Those were the valid, civics lesson answers.  Missing a moment of chaos.... that one was harder to explain away.  Like watching a train wreck, in my mind it was hard to look away from that.  Then someone mentioned self-care and I began to nod my head.

I was playing mahjong while President Zelensky was abused in the Oval Office.  Dr. K was appalled, TBG was disgusted, and I am now no less embarrassed than they are despite only seeing the replay.  

6:30 rolled around and, to my surprise, TBG asked if we should give it a try.  It's the State of the Union... we should watch.  

We turned on PBS.  We turned off PBS about a minute later.  That smug, self-satisfied smirk had no place in our living room.  We cleansed our palates with a bit of My Favorite Year, tried once again and were rewarded with Rep. Al Green shaking his gold headed cane and yelling Mr. President, you don't have a mandate as he was escorted out of the chamber by the Sargent at Arms.

I got my drama. 

We went back to  the movie.

More Than Plants

It was cold and windy in Grandma's Garden today.  When the clouds were blocking the sun, the scholars in sleeveless shirts were clutching their arms around their bodies, seeking comfort.  My arms were only long enough to enfold three or four of them at a time.  A serious distraction was needed.

I found paint pouches in the storage bench.  There was no paper except for a brown bag from the grocery store.  There were no paint brushes.  There were lots of children clamoring for something to do.  I looked around the garden for a solution.

The bigger kids have been stripping the stump of its bark, leaving a smooth surface behind. 

We've been saving the bark in a big planter, with no particular plan for its use.  Today, I found one.

I gave the scholars large strips of bark and told them to consider them paper.  Small pieces of bark made useful brushes.  I dropped dollops of paint, one color at a time, onto the grocery bag 

and the kids got to work.

There were rocks to be painted or used as applicators.  There were grooves in the bark to fill and smoother surfaces to color. 

As the grades changed during recess, Garden Leaders took charge of adding paint and explaining the weirdness of it all.

Meanwhile, I harvested broccoli and shared it with three simple commands: Open wide; Close; Chew.  It's a measure of the trust they have in me that no one wondered aloud if it was safe to eat.  They opened and shut and chewed and generally agreed that broccoli is sweet and growing it ourselves makes it even tastier.

We dug up a carrot, which was too skinny to be called mature.  We washed it off anyway and three of us shared it.  Victoria's face scrunched up first, with Romero's and mine following closely behind.  We spit it out in unison, then whined about the bad taste in our mouths.  Broccoli bites didn't help the situation at all.

Not everyone was interested in painting, though.  These two sang a new-to-me clapping song as their hands made intricated patterns in the air.

There's always something to amuse the scholars who visit the garden, even if it has nothing to do with plants.

Random Thoughts

It's Oscar Night.  I saw Wicked in the theatre but only because I was visiting FlapJilly at the time.  Other than that, I'm clueless.

People I respect recommend A Complete Unknown, and TBG is taken with Timothee Chalamet after seeing him as the celebrity guest on College Game Day .  I've heard that there's an Ayn Rand architect and some very powerful performances by women I've never encountered.  

I may see the films, I'm skipping the awards show like I always do.  It's too cringey for me.

*****

Dr. K hosts our Friday mah jongg game, although the game itself frustrates him every week.

Dr. K came to paint the ornaments that make up Ben's Bells on my birthday.  He did one, then sat back and joined the conversation as the rest of us enjoyed ourselves much more than he did.

We've been friends since 1973.  You'd think I'd be able to figure out something he likes.

*****

Lots of people from the past have been visiting Tucson recently.  A sorority sister who was dismissive back then has not changed in 55 years, if those who've seen her recently can be believed.  I'm not going out of my way to schedule some time with her.

Instead I saw The Kibbitzer and The Doula before and after Indiana, and am in the midst of enjoying our Friends From LaMaze.  They've become annual visitors, warming my heart with their willingness to spend some of their vacation time with us.

*****

My only male first cousin tells his Florida snowbirds that they are, in fact, tourists.  

I love the tax revenues and the small shops' increased sales (because why schlep to Tucson to go to Macy's?).  I'm not crazy about scarce dinner reservations.  

What I really resent is their assumption that they are Tucsonans, when they flee at the first sign of triple digit temperatures.  

It's just not right.

*****

The pollen is high.  

People used to come here to escape the pollen.

This is truly the Anthropocene Era.

******

There it is.  

I managed to get through a whole post without crying about how embarrassing it is to be an American right now.

I'm pretty proud of myself for that.

February 27th

Elizabeth Taylor, Constantine the Great, Plato ( ??? ) and I were all born today.

In their honor, I posted today's post a minute ago and will spend today celebrating.

I'll be back on Monday.

Calling Congress

Has reading or watching the news over the past few days tended to put you in a good mood or bad mood?

3986 people responded to YouGov's poll today.  42% were grumpy, 20% were happy, and 38% didn't really care at all.

Our legislators won't be hearing from the 38%.  The 20% may express their joy through campaign contributions, but I can't remember the last time I dialed a politician's office to thank her.  

That leaves 42% of us to do the heavy lifting.  

It's impossible to avoid what's going on in Washington; there are headlines everywhere.  Can it be that Medicaid and Medicare are being eyed in this round of budget cuts?  I called my Congressman to find out.

Usually, my questions are met with I haven't spoken to her today but I will be sure that she gets your message.  Today, was different.  I was told that the Congressman had just told the White House that he and eight others are not necessarily going to go along with taking from those who can least afford it.  

The young man who answered the phone was delighted that I called.  He was happy to tell me that although the Congressman voted today to send the budget bill to Committee because without a budget the government would shut down, he and 8 other Republicans sent a letter to the White House expressing their hope that SNAP and WIC and Medicaid remain untouched.

He didn't argue when I said that perhaps shutting down the current White House's agenda wasn't necessarily a bad idea.  I ignored the fact that Medicare wasn't included and asked him to thank his boss for looking out for the hungry and the ill.  

He paused, just for a moment, then said how much he and the Congressman enjoyed, wanted, and most of all needed calls like these.  They are very useful when we present our case.  We can show that we are speaking for our constituents.

He went on in that vein until he began to lose steam. We said very cordial goodbyes and I promised to call him tomorrow about something else.  He's looking forward to hearing from me again.

The people who answer our elected officials' phones, who greet you when you walk in the door, are usually young and interested in governing.  They are on the constituent services, not the campaign, side.   Sometimes, especially now as we fight despair, it' s easy to  forget how idealistic patriotism can make you, especially when you have something as wonderful as American Democracy (used to be).

This young man was reminding me that democracy isn't easy, that it only works if we participate.  He was telling me that my call was useful, a necessary part of getting what I wanted.  He assured me that I was heard.

I felt connected to the process, and I liked it.  If you want to make your own call, click here.  

It's a simple way to fight despair. 

I'll Be Back Tomorrow

Air travel, even with a whole row to myself,  is hard on the body.  

Returning to altitude takes its toll.

I'm taking the day off.

A Special Perk

When it became obvious that United Airlines was the best way to get where I needed to go, I got a United credit card.  Boarding in Group 2, a free checked bag and overhead bin space even in the cheap seats - those are perks TBG and I have been using for years.

But I dug deeper a month ago and realized I had two passes to the United Club.  I also had a 3 hour lay-over at O'Hare coming and going from Little Cuter's last weekend.  I took it as a sign from the cosmos when the Club's entrance appeared directly across from my outbound gate.

It was wonderful.

Lovely ladies made me feel welcome as I entered.  They guided me through signing then there were comfy lounge chairs; and interesting foods with allergen information on the what is this card; and all manner of liquid refreshments on tap and in bottles or glass glasses; and all of it was on an endlessly replenished, immaculately maintained buffet.

Did I mention that I really really liked it?

Three hours is a long time to spend with all the people who go through O'Hare.  Three hours is a long time to sit in molded plastic chairs, no matter how ergonomically designed and placed they may be.  I make it work because I have to make it work.

But the free pass to wonderland showed me another side of commercial air travel.  And I like it.

The newer, smaller, quieter Club had space for my last free pass when the upscale sports bar vibe Club from my first visit was too full for my kind.  Here there were no monitors on the walls, the end tables a little bigger, a self service bar that included Prosecco, and a Coke machine.  There was another buffet filled with delicious and healthy foods.  There were mandarin oranges and red apples, oatmeal raisin and sugar dusted cookies, a charcuterie plate and flat bread, pita, dips .....  

I loaded up a plate or two, filled a glass with too much Prosecco, propped up my phone against my purse with nary a thought that anyone would bother them or my carry-on if I went to refill the cookie plate, and watched more of Stranger Things Season 3, listening through my hearing aids.

I really liked it.  

"We Saw Evil That Day"

The trial for the July 4th Highland Park shooter begins today.

The shooter refused to accept a guilty plea.  48 wounded survivors and the families of seven who were killed will begin to relive their nightmare again.

Time heals all wounds..... but not these wounds.  

We, in Tucson, avoided a trial by accepting a (multiple) life in prison sentence instead of pursuing the death penalty.  If I couldn't do it myself, it seemed too easy to let the state take care of it.  Life in an 8x10 box forever feels worse to me, anyway.

But my friends who were there are now beginning to reopen the wounds.  They will be called upon to testify about what they saw and felt that day.  Just knowing that they will have to face the shooter, who was staring them down in preliminary hearings, must be terrifying or horrifying or some other ing.  

I'm so glad we didn't have to go through that.

We were able to make victims' statements, and that let me vent my spleen - at the shooter, his parents, his school, and the law.  It was gratifying.  

It gave me no closure.  Nothing ever will.  It's an open wound that lives in a box buried in the corner of my psyche.  

Unlike my Highland Park friends, I can open and shut it on my own, without the judicial system forcing me to break the lock.  I'm spending some time right now holding my screaming head together,  

Send some love their way.

Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

The sun is out.  The snow has stopped.  FlapJilly says that 21 degrees is really warm,  Gramma.

I should probably take a walk.  The streets are filled with beaten down snow.  There's no wind to speak of. 

The sunshine makes everything sparkle. 

But I am used to warmer climes.  The fireplace is beckoning. I'm tempted by Season 2 of Stranger Things now that I've mastered their television. 

And I could slip and fall... it is snow and ice after all.  

I think that's the reason and the answer.  I'm going back to see if Mike finds Eleven.  Exercise can wait. 

Flying

We were early.  Our gate wasn't ready. The pilot took us in a scenic tour of Chicagoland, starting with the far suburbs. 

And then,  because the fates were smiling at me, out my window came the city. 

He flew us out over Lake Illinois 

which was frozen out to the water filtration stations. 

The sun tried to peek out over Navy Pier.

And then we headed north,  over Lincoln Park and Belmont Harbor before turning west. 

We landed and taxied and reached our gate,  which was in the same concourse as my connecting flight.  The downside was the nearly three hour layover. 

I fed myself lunch at a Blackhawks themed sports bar,  where the ordering and paying was done by scanning a QR code pasted to the table.  I only needed a little help figuring out how to pay. 

And then,  with two plus hours left, I took advantage of the free pass to the United Club,  where I now sit in a comfy padded chair, phone charger plugged in at the end table by my side,  a free beer in my hand, typing to you. 

It's a good start to a great weekend with my big grandkids. 

The Kennedy Center?

Is it that Lincoln Center never asked him to be on the Board?

Was he snubbed by the Metropolitan Opera?

The only rationale for anything he does is his easily bruised ego.

The Kennedy Center always felt accessible.  It's a big, beautiful, airy space.  One of our favorite cousins has sung with Placido Domingo on its stage.  It's a bright white light on the drive from The District to Virginia.  It's inviting, asking you to stop by and taste a little culure.

We know FFOTUS knows nothing about music.  He chose YMCA and (I'm No) Fortunate Son as his campaign anthems, annoying anyone with a thinking brain..... although there might be some delicious irony if I dig a little bit.

Someone tells the Orange Menace the name of the song, using the shorthand title, Fortunate Son.  The candidate thinks it's about him.... and it is.  Because John Fogerty sings about not being born, silver spoon in hand, and so he was. Only thing is, it's about being able to dodge the draft... or not if (I'm No) Fortunate Son.

Thanks for listening. I needed something else to think about.  Flying with unhappy air traffic controllers is not my idea of a good time.  I wonder if they'd let me into the Control Tower with a pan of brownies?

I Can't Believe I'm Getting On An Airplane Tomorrow

There are grandchildren with childcare needs this weekend.  Unfortunately, they are a plane ride away.

FFOTUS and The Real President have decided to fire personnel hired for FAA radar, landing and navigational aid maintenance.

Their union is investigating the situation.  The rest of us are just stupefied. 

Have I missed the Make Air Travel Unsafe voters?   Are there Ban Seat Belt groups organizing in the shadows? 

How is this making America great?

Today Was Not Their BIrthdays

And if it's going to be a generic Presidents' Day then I don't want to acknowledge it right now.

If you want to read what I usually post of Presidents' Day, click here.

It's Not My Fault

There are humans on this planet who think that RFKjr is qualified to be in charge of health care in America.  

I can't write about it.  There's nothing I can do about it.  

Thousands of government workers aren't sure if they have jobs any more; they can't find the answer because they're locked out of their computers.

Nothing I can do about that, either.  

The airwaves are filled with moaning and groaning but there's little information and I don't want to hear about it, anyway.

And an atmospheric river is sending fire ravaged hills flooding Southern California, Brother in Maryland made a serious sized snowman,  and I'm powerless there, too.

So TBG and I began bingeing The Newsroom, which is quaintly optimistic while pointing a sharp finger nail at broadcast media.

It's a much wiser choice.

 

Passwords - A Short Rant

After one account might have been hacked, I changed passwords on most but not all of my accounts.  By the time this caught up with me I was so frustrated that I started all over again with a play on something that makes me happy.

This was quite successful for many years.  If it was not recognized I knew what to add to make it so.  I never saved it anywhere because I liked typing it in.

Then, one day, it didn't work anymore.  Then an account established requirements it could not meet.  Bluesky blew up entirely when I used it to log on from the laptop.

I have been spending this week thinking about a new one.  It's alternately frustrating and delightful.  At the end there will be hours devoted to clicking Forgot Password and verifying that I am who I am, and that ain't great, but it's sure better than the shitshow that's passing for the Federal Government right now.

Happy Birthday, Abraham Lincoln

He'd be appalled at what's going on.  So am I, but I've got nothing constructive to add..

Andy Kim wants to shut down the government on March 14th.  AOC asserts she is not a Nazi.  My Congressman is glad I took the time to call about DOGE and he promises he'll remember what I said should the House take action.  It must be true, I have it in (what passes for writing these days) an email.   

Should the House take action..... now there's a thought.  

The 1st US Court of Appeals denied FFOTUS's request to lift the restraining order.  That leaves us with the delightful prospect of the Supreme Court weighing in on whether the separation of powers really does exist.  That decision might just end our democracy as the world knows it.  

And I've got nothing.

I can't lose myself in college basketball because the Big 12 games aren't as available as were the Pac-12's and we're not paying for ESPN+ to watch them.  I tried reading Alexander McCall Smith's latest Botswana detective story but the real world kept poking at the edges of my brain.  

Tomorrow is another day.  I'm hoping for some good news.

A Brief Escape As We Teeter On The Edge

Will the Executive Branch refuse an order from the Judiciary?  What happens if the answer is yes?  

Nothing for me to do about it tonight; all the offices I call are closed.  Why wallow, then?  Instead, I'll leave you with photos of Prince scholars eating lemons.

Why?  I do not know.  I had a shopping bag filled with some of my neighbor's harvest, and it's a good thing she has offered me more.  They were lining up for a wedge, then half a wedge, then wondering if I'd have more tomorrow.

Of course, not everyone was thrilled.  

I sent her home with some seeds in a pot; her visit to Grandma's Garden wasn't a total disaster.  

Isn't that leaving you with a better feeling in your heart, even for just a minute?  

What?  You need more?  How about this example of cooperation and problem solving and willingness to help?

That's three cubic feet of soil they are toting, weighing somewhere between 75 and 150 pounds.  They rearranged themselves to get through the gate, without resting it on the ground or asking for advice.  

They certainly didn't whine. After all, it says it on the t-shirts: Mustangs find a way, not an excuse.

There, now.  You must be filled with just a little bit of hope for what kind of a country these kids will inherit.  They believe they are the change.

Super Bowl Supper

I think it was on The Splendid Table that I heard it - the notion of having dips for dinner.  The panelists were laughing about A Super Bowl Supper consisting of all the foods you'd eat at a Super Bowl Party, and how all of it was finger food.

Dr K and Not-Kathy were, of course, joining us for the last Sunday of the season.  I prepared enough food for their entire families and mine - most of it from containers of sour cream and plain yogurt and Penzey's enhancements.  

It took a lot longer than I expected, so tonight all I have left is the energy to share the photos.  I thought I'd write about the commercials and the game, but they were all quite ignorable.  My food was much more interesting.

Add in six or seven pretty ramekins filled with different tastes and textures; raspberries and basil leaves as embellishments; cups of soup; sliced beef; and brownies and a lemon yogurt pie and you get the general idea.

Put in an exhausted hostess who sat down and enjoyed the fruits of her labors instead of taking more photos and you've spent the evening with us.

Thanks for coming.

Ethnic Cleansing of Gaza - One Woman's Reaction

https://tinyurl.com/b25zms2x

That's Susie Wiles, his chief of staff.

What exactly did you think you signed up for, girlfriend?

She Never Got Into Watching Old Movies

Doom scrolling and reading the major headlines have morphed into one another.  Taos Bubbe and I have a small scale political action promise similar to the one JannyLou and I created when Martha McSally was my biggest concern.  I'm going back to when the world was aright on its axis.

Linda's comment yesterday (cf title) got me thinking of how I got into watching old movies.  I cannot think or write about the coup happening right under our noses (anyone else remember 1933 Germany?  They aren't burning the books, they're deleting the websites and all the information stored therein.) so I'm taking myself to a happier place.  

Daddooooo's parents watched the Marx Brothers movies with me when I was very young.  I didn't understand it all, but Harpo made a lot of sense to me.  My recurring desire to pull a giant horn out of my pocket and blast away at stupidity comes straight from Sunday afternoons and Million Dollar Movie.  

G'ma and I laughed uproariously at Buster Keaton's The General when I was in high school.  If Errol Flynn knocks on the door, 

Wikipedia

your father knows to leave the house.  That was the reason I knew about his swashbuckling before I met TBG, who is still obsessed with it.  

I went off to Cornell, where there were seven movie outlets on campus.  Classic films, cult films, X-rated films; remember I Am Curious (Yellow)? There were first run movie theatres downtown and at The Crossroads (which really was at the crossroads of many diverse paths), but those required a car and a modicum of advance planning.  And they were expensive.  Ours demanded not much more than our attendance.

Then I took myself to Chicago and TBG came to visit and we walked into The Biograph Theatre

Wikimedia Commons

where the audience was convulsed in laughter.  It was the second half of Bringing Up Baby (neither of us can remember which main feature we were there to see) and although we had no information at all it took about 10 seconds before we, too, were howling as Cary Grant yelled Susan!!! at Katherine Hepburn.  

The blonde at the film

It was the beginning of a love affair with screwball comedies and the Biograph itself.  

We usually walked, my graduate school friends and I, through the (then) largely ungentrified DePaul neighborhood.  When it was super cold we'd pile into Big Steve's car, park in the lot that only locals knew about, walk through the alley where John Dillinger was shot, and pay $2.50 for the late shows.  \They started at 9pm, which was just about when we'd finished school and work and dinner and, if it were a weekend, a game or two of Clue. 

There was The Granada, a big, beautiful, ornate and overdone masterpiece of a real movie theatre,

Chicago Magazine

all the way up Sheridan Road but absolutely worth it.  Bogie and Bacall deserved to be seen in such a setting.

DVD's and Netflix helped when we moved to Marin.  TCM has saved us in Arizona.  I try to go to The Fox Theatre and sit in those two person upholstered couches in the loge

Historic Theater Photos

when oldies but goodies are shown around the holidays.  Taking Mr (now 19 and 21) as tweens to see Princess Bride (an old movie for them, after all) and Robin Hood was like transporting them to another dimension.

And isn't that what a good movie experience is supposed to do? 

*****

For Linda and anyone else who wants to start at the beginning, arranged roughly:

Casablanca

Charade

Singing in the Rain/anything with Jeannette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy

Bringing Up Baby

Robin Hood/The Sea Hawk/Captain Blood (and TBG would be furious if I left off The Mark of Zorro)

The Lady Eve

North by Northwest/Psycho (if your heart can stand terror... serious screaming out loud terror)

If you're not hooked by then, tell me what you want.....

Credit Where Credit Is Due

After all my ranting and raving about no one doing anything , Sister's Senator, Andy Kim, proved me wrong.

Sen. Kim was Representative Kim when, in his blue suit, he cleaned up the poop left in the Rotunda by the January 6th Insurrectionists.  That suit is now in the Smithsonian.

nbc news

Yesterday, he was, once again, where he needed to be.  His first government job was with USAID.  His reaction to the illegal shut down and reorganization under the State Department was obvious - he walked over to talk to someone, to see what was happening.  

He was denied access.

So he went outside and started talking to reporters.

Hours later, other Senators joined in the hue and cry, but it all started with the junior Senator from New Jersey.

I said it before and I'll say it again - we need to make lots of loud noise.  Let's hope this is the beginning.

*****

This is the Facebook post Sen. Kim wrote on Monday morning, as the lock out began.

Andy Kim for New Jersey 

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 As Trump and Musk gut USAID today, I think back to my first day ever working for the US gov, showing up at the Reagan Building to start at USAID. Shame on them for demonizing Americans who are serving our nation, often in difficult and dangerous places.

We can have a policy debate about how much to spend internationally or what programs to fund, but their hate and paranoia towards other Americans go much deeper. I’m proud I worked at USAID.

I worked in USAID/Africa bureau where we helped rehabilitate former child soldiers in Uganda, helped with an emerging famine in Malawi. Trump admin complains about China’s growing influence in Africa but then shuts down one of our best tools to fight this.

USAID helps strengthen our nation’s reputation, showcasing our power and our values. Trump admin is now doing extraordinary damage to our reputation not just in trying to stop USAID’s work but by denigrating the mission of humanitarian and development assistance as a whole.

Their vindictive way of trying to shut down USAID sends signals all over the world that we are a nation at war with itself. It tells authoritarian adversaries that America is distracted and divided. It tells other nations we don’t care about them as China and others try to woo them to their side.

To the workers at USAID, I’m sorry you have been treated the way you have, disrespected in your work, maliciously had your patriotism questioned. You serve your nation and should never be attacked, especially by our own. As someone who once worked at USAID, I stand with you.

These actions by Trump/Musk show America as a nation trampling the rule of law. Trump/Musk cannot unilaterally close USAID or transfer under State. USAID is codified by the Foreign Affairs Reform and Restructuring Act of 1998, 22 U.S.C. 6501 et seq.

Any action to shut USAID down would need to go through Congress, and we will fight this. This is all self-inflicted damage. We face real national security threats, and right now our adversaries/competitors are loving what they see — America at war with itself.

I didn't plan to write about movies.  I thought I'd be describing the eerie overlaps between the book I just finished and the series the Cali kids and I binged after getting everyone else in the house settled in.

Instead, every time I sat down on the couch, laptop on my lap, TCM tempted me away.  It's Oscars Month, and the line up is irresistible.  

We saw snippets of some (The Great Dictator..... I've never been able to get through a whole Charlie Chaplin film) and avoided others (All About Eve was too bitchy,  1937's A Star is Born was too melancholy, 12 Angry Men was too preachy).  

Some we've never seen (In the Heat of the Night) and are in the queue where TBG can find them and where I could, too, if ever took the time to learn.

And some start out as pretty music as we clean up after dinner and by the time we're comfy on the couch it's obvious to both of us that we are in for the whole film.

I've lost typing time to Singing in the Rain, and Brigadoon, and, tonight, the movie we watch and listen to from the opening credits through to the final copyright seal - The Sting.  Newman and Redford and Scott Joplin reimagined by Marvin Hamlisch keep us glued to the screen.  

There's always something new to discover, a nuanced look, a so that's whose glove it is moment.  When the Oscar qualifying nomination is for cinematography or art direction or musical score, I look at a familiar film in an entirely new way.

As our leaders begin to make some righteous noise (Sen. Andy Kim's press conference outside the shuttered ASAID office), as I begin to develop a phone friendship with Brendan at Rep. Ciscomani's office, as the occasional judge says WTF????, I'm delighted to be enchanted with songs and dances and memories (The Sting is driving through Wisconsin in our MGB; Music Man is watching on the couch in Cleveland with TBG's dad; The Way We Were is me sobbing on the phone to TBG, a thousand miles away, my own Golden Boy).

I don't mind adding a pleasant soundtrack to what seems like a teeny tiny awakening.  

It's a much better mindset than reading my BlueSky feed and going down the rabbit hole.  I'm going to imagine a scenario with a hopeful outcome.  And that scenario will be set to great music.

Rest In Peace, Thomas the Wonder Dog

He lived 15 years with his adoptive family, loving SIR and Little Cuter first, then adding FlapJilly and Giblet as they came along.  He accepted TBG as his Grandpa, trotting over to him, leash in mouth and tail wagging, as we put down our suitcases in the hall.  My husband didn't need a dog of his own; he had his Grand Dog.

He was the fastest, smartest, strongest fellow, routinely being asked to retrieve balls for owners whose own pets were unable to swim that far.  

He was the most patient and kind and loving pooch.  His periscope tail left him exposed to FlapJilly's Baby Proctologist forefinger.  We stopped it just barely in time, but he didn't flinch.  The kids perched headphones precariously over his ears and he shrugged and went along with it.  

He was alert to every intruder in the area, barking sonorously at bicycles and other dogs and random trucks and cars.  They didn't need an alarm; they had Thomas.  

His snuggles are legendary.  

His eyes burned a loving memory in our hearts.  

He was finished with this world, which was so lucky to have him for such a lovely long time.

Rest In Peace.

Maybe Tomorrow

My plan was to expound on Taos Bubbe's plan of action.  We were college roommates on the edges of the effort to stop the draft and the war and we ended up closing Cornell two Springs in a row and thwarting LBJ's run for reelection.   

As she said,  we were loud, we were disruptive,  and we were colorful. We were young,  as were most of our compatriots across the country,  and we stuck together, making noise,  until we could no longer be ignored. 

There's a lot more to say on the matter,  but I'm her lagged and altitude readjusting and my heart's just not in it. 

Maybe tomorrow. 

Starting The Day Off Right

Bluesky (find me @ClumsyGrammy - Giblet's moniker for me) was awash in the end of democracy.  I'm still surprised at the unconstitutionality of FFOTUS' Executive Orders; why, I do not know. There was ranting and raving from the usual suspects,  most aimed at the White House,  but many targeting the  feckless Democrats who refuse to do more than send angry letters upstream. 

There was a script to use when calling one's elected officials.  I dialed Juan Ciscomani's Tucson office and read it to Brendan,  the lovely gentleman who answered the phone.  He said the Congressman had called the White House,  "sent a Q &A" requesting information,  and reassured me that Social Security,  Medicare,  Medicaid, SNAP, and Pell Grants were still operational. Further research found that to be marginally accurate but I didn't have all the information at the time so couldn't refute it. 

I wondered if the Congressman was concerned about those who use Meals on Wheels. Starving lonely seniors didn't sit right with me.  I reiterated my larger point - the fact that the House, not the Executive, holds the nation's purse strings.  It's Civic 101.  Was the Congressman concerned about that? 

He had no answer.  I thanked him, hung up the phone (a phrase with no meaning any more except for those of us still clinging to our landlines), and turned to my messages. 

There was JannyLou, claiming to be unable to insulate herself from the barrage. I could have texted back,  but I clicked on the phone icon instead. 

We laughed.  We cried. We howled at the wind.  

We ended by agreeing that we were now fortified to give the outside world a chance. 

It was a much better way to start the day. 

Better Late Than Never

The day got away from me.  Actually, two days sped by without my paying much attention to anything except my expanded family.

1440 has replaced the NYTimes and WaPo as my early morning news fix.  It's fact based information curated by humans, not an algorithm.  This morning it told me that Colombia, like Mexico, was refusing to allow FFOTUS's deportation airplane to land.  A mini tariff squabble ensued.  There were links to follow for a deeper dive, but I'm trying to limit my doom scrolling.

It also mentioned that an alcoholic, serial abuser was confirmed as Secretary of Defense.  I certainly avoided those links.

Instead, I went downstairs to hug the babies.  I invite to you to pretend and do the same:

 

Don't Tell Me To Ignore What I Saw

 

This was not an expression of love for the audience.

Those who live where it started understand that.

So should we.

Do not let them gaslight you.

Stupidity

Stupidity

Having trouble dealing with those you love who've somehow gone over to the dark side? 

I know that I am.  It breaks my heart.  I feel helpless and flummoxed and at a loss for words.... which,  for me,  is really saying something.  

As if she felt my angst over the miles,  Susie Q sent this today. 

Clear, thoughtful, and beautifully illustrated,  it's worth a listen over lunch. 

Bonhofer on Stupidity

A Brief Respite From The Broligarchy

MLK Day

The MAGA hats are disappointed.  Their fearless leader won't be outside to see how few of them showed up.  His Inaugural Committee has ordered that the Jumbotrons be removed, so there won't be an outdoor live performance of any kind. Many are asking for refunds of their hotel and travel expenses (good luck with that,  but keep buying those coins, boots, and bibles).

Democracy dies in darkness. 

WaPo used to have this as a header, but its avatar will be in the Rotunda (oh, wait, they know how to get in there; no refund needed) so his hair doesn't get mussed. The rest of us will weep as Democracy sobs. 

I leave you with 2 things as we DON'T WATCH:

1. Do something for someone else today,  in honor of a man who saw the goodness and promise of our society. 

2. Enjoy this cartoon. 

Dear Sen. Joni Ernst

Re: Confirming Pete Hegseth

"I was so busy keeping my job that I forgot to do my job."

(Michael Douglas in The American President)