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 

spoSnrotde17 A5ala45af9851m 8te 5a:M1aY6g128hd88h5y0crae5tsa 

 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.