I seem to have lost my ambition somewhere. If you find it, please return. I’m supposed to be doing a final edit on a manuscript. My accomplishment so far today? One chapter.
Instead, like many Americans, I spent the morning glued to the TV and James Comey’s testimony before the Senate Intelligence Committee. At first, it was for me a chicken and the egg situation—which came first. I wasn’t sure if I watched because I didn’t want to work, or I didn’t want to work because I wanted to watch what turned out to be a significant even in American political history. Once I watched, I was mesmerized, mostly by Comey’s performance.
He was calm, professional, unemotional, a consummate picture of integrity. If he didn’t know the answer, he said so; if he felt it was sensitive, he said he couldn’t answer in open forum; occasionally, he said, “That’s a good question.” He admitted to being stunned by Trump’s suggestion he quash the investigation of Mike Flynn, and he seemed equally at a loss to respond to Trump’s demand for loyalty. He simply replied that he would always give the president honesty. He was knowledgeable and prepared. The naysayers have already begun with accusations and slanders, but I think he’s strong and will hold firm.
I turned off the hearing with a couple of other heroes, so far pretty much unsung. One is Angus King, independent from Maine who injected a lot of common sense and a bit of both humor and literary knowledge into the hearings. And Kamala Harris, senator from California who is like a dog with a bone in its teeth. Being chastised in her questioning of a witness yesterday by an old white man didn’t slow her down a bit. She focused her questions today on Jeff Session, questions she knew Comey couldn’t answer in a public forum, but now they’re out there in the public mind. I suspect Sessions is toast—and I’m not weeping.
Several Republicans looked like blithering idiots. One critic said Tom Cotton kept asking questions that exploded in his face, but Cotton has never acquitted himself well publicly, and I fail to understand how he’s been elected. It was sad though to listen to John McCain stumble through nonsensical questions. I had great policy differences with McCain but always admired him as a man and a war hero. I think it’s time for him to gracefully retire.
And then there’s John Cornyn, Texas’ pride and joy, who kept asking questions about the Clintons. Excuse me, but what were the hearings about? Dirty, underhanded politics and public relations, Johnny boy. I got to thinking about him—he’s hitched his star to a falling wagon, the Republican party, and he remains loyal to the party line to the point that he apparently hasn’t an independent thought in his brain. Sure, he’s a senior senator with some clout, but, an ambitious man, he’s going nowhere else. It’s way too late to leave the Republicans. So there he is, being dragged down with them. Couldn’t happen to a nicer fellow.
And that pretty much was my day—interesting, stimulating, even reassuring. I felt today that the good guys will win though Lord knows opinions on social media are all over the place.
Took a break and cooked myself a good dinner—sautéed zucchini, chicken slices with a sour cream/blue cheese sauce, and wilted lettuce. Okay, I burned the bacon for the lettuce and it didn’t leave enough grease so I had to augment with olive oil. Not my finest effort—the other day when I did that salad for Jordan I got it just perfect. Now I’ve used up all the home-grown lettuce until fall.
Anticipating more cooking this weekend.