Wearing my Pollyanna shoes

I asked my daughter this morning what came to her mind if I said Pollyanna, and she said nothing. So I hope some of you know that Pollyanna was an 1814 novel that featured a young girl with an eternally optimistic outlook on life. Boring in literature but not, I find, a bad way to look at life. I am Pollyanna.

And as I follow Facebook and other sources on the internet, I am encouraged about the world. We hear so much gloom and doom, and admittedly there is much dark to worry and moan over. The separation of children from their parents and now the word that it would be too much trouble to reunite them—I hope that ends up in Nuremburg someday, with the orange squatting president as the lead defendant. The ongoing foolishness of a wall that nobody wants that will do no good, cost a fortune, and destroy the environment. And the destruction of our environment on so many fronts. The greed and corruption that seems pervasive throughout the current administration—why in heaven’s name, I wonder, would anyone want to attach themselves to that? And why, oh why, do so many still seem to fawn over this man who is without a doubt corrupt and most likely a trator?

But the tide is changing. I see encouraging signs. Republican officials are pulling away from trump—a Senate amendment, which seems likely to pass if it hasn’t already, will condemn his withdrawal from Syria; several Senate Republicans have come out against the prospect of declaring the southern border wall a national emergency. The worst racist members of Congress have been ostracized and relegated to the sidelines, where they have no voice in government. The southern district of New York has demanded documents from trump’s inaugural committee, and it seems likely that his tax returns will also be unlocked.

Yes, we have miles to go, but these are encouraging signs, things we didn’t see a year ago It seems the universe that he thought he controlled is caving in on trump, and he’s fairly helpless. Karma is beginning its long slow climb to right the universe again.

A friend said to me tonight it’s amazing how rapidly trump was able to undo what it took years to put in place, and that is unfortunately true. But the American people are speaking, and I have faith in their collective voice. Today the buzz is about how many trump supporters are gobsmacked by their higher income tax bills and/or reduced refunds. The so-called president’s popularity is at a historic low. The tangled mess is unwinding.

I’m encouraged on another front. Across the world, people, communities, and countries are taking extraordinary measures to stop climate change and save the environment. They are planting trees—not just a few trees but whole forests, developing alternatives to single-use plastics, finding new methods of filtering water and growing crops in desert countries, developing non-toxic fuel alternatives. The numbers of countries who are partially or wholly dependent on solar power is astounding. I wish I’d kept a list of the projects that impressed me, for they are numerous and innovative. So while we hear all those prophets about the doomsday clock ticking, I am encouraged by the global effort to stop that clock. I only wish my country could do more, but I look to a hopeful future.

Be of good cheer, my friends. I really do think the future can be bright.

A dinner date that wasn’t and a glance at politics

Friday night looming, and I thought a dinner date would be fun, so I approached the most eligible male I know. Here’s how the conversation went yesterday:

Me: Jacob, you want to go to dinner tomorrow night? Your folks are going out.

Jacob, with extreme caution: With who?

Me, brightly: Me

Jacob, the caution still evident: Who else? (He thinks my friends are dull, particularly his Aunt Betty who adores him and with whom I frequently go out to supper. His complaint is we talk about politics.)

Me: No one else, just me.

Jacob, the caution lessening just a bit: Where?

Me: Wherever you’d like to go. (Now I admit I would draw the line at some places, but I was pretty much open.)

Jacob: I’ll think about it.

The last I saw of him he left at one o’clock for a movie with a buddy. I presume his parents know where he is, but I don’t. Jordan did explain that he’d been home without friends for two days—the horror of it!—and needed some buddy time.

So I had a bowl of terrific venison chili, gifted to me by a friend, and a big salad with blue cheese dressing, homemade, of course. Dinner out wouldn’t have tasted as good, but the company might have been better. Then again, I’d have had to decree no cell phone.

I am almost glued to the internet these days, following the goings on in Washington—fascinated by the new Congress, with its diversity (although a couple of the women need to learn to think of ramifications before they speak), filled with admiration for Nancy Pelosi’s tough confidence, and appalled at the squatting president. The wall controversy seems to get worse and worse, but I believe Democrats cannot give in on trump’s foolish obsession and what it turns out is mostly a desire on his part to save face. Once they succumb to the temper tantrum, trump will know he can bully them. I grieve for the Federal employees on whom this is a real hardship, for our national parks where garbage is piling up, for our nation which will soon be a real mess without government. But I do have to laugh when trump claims he is overcome with phone calls supporting his stance on the wall—and then someone points out that because of the shutdown, the White House switchboard is closed. Fascinating days we live in—but oh so scary.

Nothing new

No blog tonight or not much of one. It has been an uneventful day although productive. Home all day, working on neighborhood newsletter and novel and moving ahead nicely with both. I’ve had a brief visit from Jordan, who is not feeling well and stayed home all day, and a slightly longer visit from Jacob who came out this morning to retrieve his leftover pizza from last night and again this evening to take out garbage and do a few “straightening” chores I needed done before tomorrow morning when a video crew arrives to film me for a promotional video for my hip surgeon and his hospital. More about that after the fact.

The video should be fun, but I had other lessons today in how medical problems take up my time. I had an appointment already to see my general physician about a spot on my back that I fear needs to come out—sent a photo to the doctor, and he said to come in and they’d remove it So today I called to ask if they could also do my clearance for eye surgery at that appointment, and I ran into what I think of as the reception-area block. Oh, no, the doctor couldn’t possibly do that. He’d look at the spot and if it needed to come out, I’d have to make another appointment, and he couldn’t possibly combine it with the surgical clearance appointment. I’d have to come in one day for blood work and then come back for the exam. Let’s see—that’s five appointments, right? I explained that I cannot drive and must rely on others and that was a lot of doctor appointments and a terrible imposition on those who carry me around. The receptionist reluctantly said she’d explain to the doctor and ask if it was all right. I told her he was more than familiar with my situation—I’ve spent half the fall in his office, for pity’s sake—he’d need no explanation. She called back with word it would be okay.

All this came about because my eye surgery is now scheduled for December 21. Awful close to Christmas, but I guess it will be fine. I have mixed emotions—want it done in December to get it off my mind and to roll it into other medical expenses for this year since I think I’ll qualify for the medical deduction, which may well go away next year. But having a definite date gives me the willies. Yes, I want it done and over with. Last night I couldn’t read the menu or the bill in a dim restaurant, and then, because my depth perception is off, I poured wine onto the counter instead of into the glass.

But other than these non-adventures, to me it’s been a day to make my heart heavy. The congressional vote for the tax bill was not unexpected but it still hurts—it will hurt me, but it will hurt a lot of others much more, and I worry about the poor and sick. Congress has struck a double blow—taxes and health care, and Paul Ryan is jubilant. Betsy DeVos has taken away protections for disabled students, and 45 has struck down the ban on importing ivory, thus opening the way for poachers and his own big-game hunting sons—another of his distractions from the Russia scandal which tonight threatens to engulf Jared Kushner. Al Franken has been accused of harassment; he apologized and called for an investigation of himself—but the Republicans are out for blood. I’m sure outspoken Franken has been a thorn in their sides all along, and they see a chance to get rid of him.

And they may be concerned about Roy Moore—he would be an inconvenience, after all—but are totally unconcerned about all the women who have come forward again today to accuse 45 or about 45’s own braggart confessions of groping and other gross details. The hypocrisy on Capitol Hill is appalling.

I echo the blogger who said tonight he is deeply ashamed of his country. Where have these people come from? How have we sunk so low?

I hope to have my optimism back tomorrow, but now I’ll just say goodnight. Try to love each other and pray for our enemies within.

Happy days are here again

It’s true—the sun was shining today, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. Jordan asked if I wanted to run errands with her and after first declining so I could stay home and write, I changed my mind and went. We went to Calloway’s looking for a small, low house plant for one that died from lack of water and for mums or something to put in a pot outside my front door. She had gotten gorgeous mums at Central Market for $14.00. At Calloway’s, surprise, they were almost a third again of that amount. And the smallest mums were $14.00. Houseplants were all succulents. We gave up and moved on.

I did some odds and ends on my desk—a couple of people I needed to get in touch with, an unexpected vote-by-mail ballot that I needed to figure out (still haven’t), but I did write 1100 words today and hope to do the same tomorrow.

My cooking experiment was pasta with anchovies and crisp bread crumbs. Since the recipe served four I had to cut it down, and I’m not sure I got the proportions right. I love anchovies but this was a bit much. The idea of crisp breadcrumbs on pasta is great though, and I’ll find other uses for it. Meanwhile, I’ll have to refine the pasta with anchovies before I share it

I cleaned out two shelves in the freezer and found, among other things, a large piece of chocolate Bundt cake. Shared it with Jacob, but it was too much even for both of us and a good-sized piece went back into the freezer.

But if you caught the reference to the Democratic Party celebration song in the title of this post, happy days are not here again. Certainly not for the people of Puerto Rico. I read a post tonight about all the aid the sitting president has dispatched to that island, but I find it hard to reconcile with his increasingly vile tweets about the territory, its leaders, and its people. His scorn for the suffering and death there, while he plays golf at one of his estates, is beyond anything Americans ever envisioned in their nightmares. Apparently, his anger can be traced back to a failed investment, a case wherein he left the island territory a debt of something like $32 million.Like many others, I think San Juan’s mayor is a hero(ine?).

Clearly, Trumpf or tRump, whichever you prefer, has committed many impeachable offenses, and there is an increasing level of outrage across the country. But where is the Congressional outrage, even concern? I find it hard to believe that these two bodies of men and women, elected to serve their country, have not risen up in protest against the slow but steady dismantling of everything we stand for. The Republicans control Congress, and he is their problem because he is the titular head of the party.

Are they so blinded by privilege, power, and bribes that they are willing to sit back and watch our country fall apart under their watch? Is there not a backbone among them except for Senator John McCain, that venerable hero, and two or three women? (Hours after McCain told an interviewer that he is probably dying, Trump ridiculed him for going back on his health care promises—what McCain promised was to work for the best solution for the American people, not to support one heartless bill after another, all born of desperation.) I simply cannot believe I live in a country governed by a system of checks and balances and yet this man, whom many believe to be mentally ill, runs rampant and unchecked.

In my rosy, ideal world, Congress would put country above party. On that note, sweet dreams everyone

Goodness and Mercy

On the plaza outside Samford University’s Beeson Law Library in Birmingham, a statue depicts the relationship of justice and mercy. The Angel of Mercy is seen encouraging the blindfolded Lady of Justice. She is staying the sword of justice to keep it from being used too swiftly, tempering it with compassion. The sculptor is Glynn Acree from Roswell, Georgia who also created statues for Emory, Georgia Tech, Mercer, and the University of Georgia.

Justice is not about vengeance; neither is the law. Justice must be tempered with mercy, with compassion. And yet, there was our president/pretender today, warning 800,000 young people who have never known any other country to prepare to self-deport. How heartless and cruel.

I am not, never have been a fan of Republicans, let alone the man they have now chosen to lead the party. That’s well-known to any who know me. But this latest act strains my credulity, appalls me in ways I never thought possible. I won’t ask what the rush is to get everyone of Hispanic descent out of our country. I know only too well that it is blind, hate-filled racism.

 And I am full of fury at people who hide their hate behind the rule of law. If the rule of law were so damned important, why did the president/pretender pardon Joe Arpaio, an act done completely outside the law and the usual constraints of presidential pardons. People who ask why the Dreamers have not applied for citizenship reveal an appalling ignorance about the citizenship process and the archaic laws that govern the move from immigrant to citizen, a years-long process that can cause a person to leave the country for seven or eight years before returning. Do you realize what would happen to the life you’ve built for yourself and your family if you had to leave for eight years? What could you come back to?

Many of the Dreamers are in the midst of their education, well on their way to becoming solid citizens with strong contributions to make to this country. The dissolution of DACA could well send them into lives of poverty—and worse, robbing them of their golden dreams and us of their future contributions. Does anyone in this administration think beyond their long, pointy Pinocchio-like noses?

Congress can fix this. Will they? Will they have the guts to buck the president? They have on other matters, to my delight and surprise. But do they see this as deserving and important. I can only pray for guidance for them. Writing my senators is useless, and I have long ago given it up.

I weep for my country. I weep because I live in a country I once could be proud of and now am ashamed of its cruelty, inhumanity, lack of compassion. What if justice turns its blind eyes on you? How will you be sure it is tempered by mercy?

Please pray for the Dreamers…and for our country. May goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.

The Pope and Congress--a first-person account

 As I mentioned yesterday, my friend Carol Roark is in Washington, DC, for three months while her husband, former Texas Congressman Lon Burnam, does some work for the Friends Committee on National Legislation. Here’s Carol’s account of the morning with the Pope at the Capitol, reprinted with her permission. I like the sense of immediacy.

Some of you may think it strange that I would make an effort (getting up at 5 a.m. and arriving at the Capitol by 6 a.m. and then waiting for three hours) to see a Pope. I think I even surprised myself with my degree of interest. Call me perpetually curious -- think that sums it up. The interest that he has sparked by being willing to speak about issues like the Syrian refugee crisis and climate change gives me hope. I don't agree with all of his positions, but I do respect him.

The crowd was very congenial, and I had a great time chatting with my nearby seatmates. Lon and I will likely get together with an attorney who works with the federal court system. She and I had a great time talking, and she is very interested in knowing about what Lon is doing with the Friends Committee on National Legislation (FCNL). Security was so tight that I could walk off and leave my purse on the chair without worrying that anyone would bother it (or snag my seat). They even had border patrol agents from El Paso as part of the security detail - every uniform and flavor of "officer" that you can imagine. I was very lucky that Congressman Marc Veasey's office offered me the one "seated" ticket they had for the lower terrace of the Capitol. It meant that I didn't have to stand for five hours.

The Jumbotron and the crowd fired up with a scene of the Pope greeting well wishers outside the Vatican Embassy. One little kid dropped a piece of paper, and the Pope bent down, picked it up, and handed it back to him. Class act. We watched (much laughter and appreciative head nods) as the entourage made up of huge SUVs escorted the tiny Fiat on its way to the Capitol -- a great visual statement if there ever was one. The Vatican press corps was quite chic -- tailored suits and leather backpacks.

 The Pope gave his speech in English, which meant that he spoke slowly and deliberately. The crowd seemed to hang on every word -- as if waiting for him to mention their favorite issue so they could cheer. At one point, both Boehner and Biden (sitting behind the Pope) were twiddling their thumbs, but someone obviously sent them a message to stop -- because they both stopped at about the same time. As you'll hear in all the news reports, Pope Francis framed his message around the lives and work of four Americans: Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Dorothy Day, and Thomas Merton and the values they advocated.

Lon told Anna Tinsley, a Fort Worth Star-Telegram reporter, that I had been to the speech, so she was eager to talk to me to get a "local" angle. I'm not sure if I'll make the cut for tomorrow's story, but will be interested to see how she interprets what I said -- which was basically that the Pope has an important message to share whether you agree with him or not, and I think it is important to listen to what he has to say.

Photos by Carol Roark

Terrible times

I went to bed with a heavy heart last night, and it's stayed with me. Had dinner--mostly a lovely pleasant dinner at a wonderful seafood restaurant--with a friend who's a political scientist. She told me of her disappointment with President Obama, and for the first time I got it. He has done so much good--I'll never let go of that--but there are things he hasn't done, such as stand up to Republicans, curtail Wall Street and corporations. He's okayed drone strikes in the mid-East which too often kill civilians.
And the question I hear too often the last couple of days, from both sides of the aisle, is why didn't he go to the border while he was in Texas. I'd like to think he was avoiding the politics of a photo op but I think that's thin. I hear someone (Border Patrol, deportation people--if there are such) is taking immigrants several hundred miles into Mexico and dropping them off. For what? To where? If it's true, it's heartless.
I worry beyond belief at all those children being returned to their dangerous home countries--I very much doubt U.S. authorities will see that they are reunited with their families, so there they are--some as young as five or six--adrift in a dangerous country. I cannot bear to think of it, and I hope the U.S. will show its humanitarian side. Meanwhile Congress is playing politics with the lives of those children.
I don't understand world events as much as some, but I wonder about the current Palestinian/Israeli conflict. Surely the Palestinians knew they were starting a war when they kidnapped and killed three Israeli youths. And surely they knew they'd get pounded. It's all tragic, pointless and a great exercise in wasted human life. Yes, the Palestinians have had a bad deal--their homeland usurped by the Israelis. But that was generations ago--why do they continue the futile battles? Why not negotiate?
As I said I'm no expert on politics either, but I think that's part of the president's problem. Being a good and honorable and reasonable man, he expected everyone to play nice and negotiate. And he came up against the hard reality of partisan politics gone wild. If I were him, I fear I'd issue a whole bunch of executive orders.
The world, as they say, seems to be going to hell in a handbasket. I am glad some of those I loved--my parents, Uncle Charles, and other who cared passionately--are not here to see it.