Sunday, November 12, 2017

No Sunday Funday


Long, slow Sunday, the kind of day when I long for daylight savings. The family didn’t want to go to church and had busy activities scheduled, so me and my dog and my computer have been alone except for pop-in visits. By 5:00 p.m. I thought it was dreary and dismal, and I had to remind myself that it’s the time change. Predicted rain never came.

I cleaned out the fridge and freezer and made a pot of chicken soup—rotisserie chicken, broth, canned tomatoes, a few carrots, a couple of potatoes, a half onion. Now, when it’s almost done, I cubed and added a half zucchini.

Pet peeve: you have to be so careful when you buy diced tomatoes. Plain, original are rare. Only when I opened the can today did I realize that I bought diced tomatoes with green chilis. Not the end of the world—chilis in chicken soup are probably a good addition, but it’s not what I had in mind or what I wanted. And the line about green chilis was in tiny print.

Soup smells good. Perhaps it will warm my soul.

It did warm my soul today to see on TV that the church in Sutherland Springs, Texas held services this morning. I had thought the pastor, who lost his daughter in the shooting, said the church would close and perhaps be demolished. But there he was this morning, preaching the word of God. Somehow that’s a sign of hope and courage to me. Not defeated, not turning away from faith, these people are carrying on. A huge crowd attended. Bet they didn’t all fit in the church.

On the other hand, all the news about Judge Roy Moore chills my soul, more than our usual daily diet of Republican scams and presidential bloopers. To think that scores of pastors, men who supposedly share my faith, are defending this man and Senators are dancing like cats on a hot tin roof seriously assaults my faith. Moore, who should even have to forfeit the honorary title Judge after being barred from the bench twice for judicial misconduct, is a man to whom corruption of all kinds clings like a polyester cloak. One report says Moore will win a landslide; another says his Democratic challenger is running slightly ahead, which in Alabama is a huge victory. I may just close my ears until the election is over. Nah, I’d never do that. Probably won’t close my mouth either

I’m sure much of the country is outraged by the Alabama politician who compared Moore’s situation to Mary and Joseph, but someone kept posting on my wall comments to the effect of “What about corrupt Hillary.” It’s a tactic 45 uses all the time. A friend called it “whataboutism” and labeled it a Russian disinformation technic. Someone else referred to Newt Gingrich dating an intern and waiting until his wife was hospitalized fighting cancer to tell her he was filing for divorce. Sure, it makes my point, but it too is whataboutism. When talking about Moore, folks, can we please stick to Moore and not drag others in for better or worse.

And to end on a light note: I really like the word “bigly.” Like the sound, the implication. I’ve longed to use it, but I thought it was one of many pseudo-words 45 has added to our lexicon, and was therefore off limits. But I looked it up today—love, love, love the dictionary resources available online. The first use was in the middle ages, so I am bigly relieved. Is that the right usage?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/09/opinion/diana-nyad-sexual-assault.html

Judy Alter said...

That is truly a horrifying story, and one that needs to be heard across the country loud and clear. I fear there are thousands of similar stories untold in our communities. But it also brings to mind something i read this morning about a young woman who has come forward to accuse George H. W. Bush of groping her in 2003 when she was 14. What he did was to squeeze her butt. Poor taste but not a traumatizing event, nothing like Nyad experienced, nothing that left indelible scars on her I wouldn't think. I fear we're loosing sight of the meaning of grope: the third meaning, after seeking an object and looking for words or thoughts is to fondle for sexual pleasure. Not much sexual pleasure in a quick butt squeeze. I truly think the former president thought he was being avuncular. Maybe I'm naïve.