Taking a long look at myself

 

Tonight I jumped into a discussion of why writers blog, confessing that I don’t blog about the craft of writing much but more about whatever crosses my mind. Someone responded saying that’s what blogging started out to be—a sharing of thoughts. And so I’m sharing some thoughts that have been on my mind.

Mostly, I try to save political thoughts for Facebook and keep them off the blog. Maybe it’s because at least one person dear to me is on the opposite side of politics, maybe it’s because I fear I’ll sound shrill. It is not because I fear losing readers for my books. I figure the people who disagree with me probably wouldn’t read my books anyway, and I’m not going to bend to their prejudices.

But I have given thought lately to my voice on social media. If you know me at all, you know that I’m a yellow dog Democrat. I have a friend who is, if it’s possible, even more of an activist than I, and she told me once that she also posts about her garden and her beloved grandsons so that folks will know there is a warm, fuzzy side to her. I thought that some of the best advice I’d ever heard.

Today, a good friend referred to me, not in a critical way, as “Biden happy.” I thought about that a long time. I do defend Biden, especially in this Afghanistan tragedy. And I admit I think of him as a basic, honest, decent guy who has devoted his life to this country and who wants desperately to do what is best for America. He’s also knowledgeable about our history, our government, and our international relationships. I also see him as almost a tragic figure, beset by overwhelming problems not of his making about which he can do little but his best. And he’s trying.

But that doesn’t mean that, like trump followers, I’m a cultist. It’s not that I’m Biden-happy, but the truth is that I believe in morality and the truth. My fervent defense of Biden would be given to anyone in his position. I am outraged by the lies and distortions of the truth, the armchair military experts who are quick to claim he’s done it all wrong. Come on, folks, he’s safely evacuated over 100,000 people in less than a month—the biggest humanitarian evacuation in history.

When Barack Obama was president, I was quick to defend him. In retrospect, I see some things I wish he had done and didn’t, including pulling out of Afghanistan once Osama bin Laden was out of the picture. All along I thought he treated his opponents with kid gloves when he should have had an iron fist, but that’s the kind of guy he is—restrained and classy, not a bully. Will I feel the same way about Biden in future years? Maybe so. Maybe I’ll look back and see things he could have done better. But who am I to judge a man of his expertise and dedication?

There are several distinctions among those who criticize Biden. Some are knowledgeable about the Middle East, have perhaps served in Afghanistan and made friends, and see a better path to victory. Among their number are the many who grieve, as we all do, the deaths of Americans (and Afghans, who died in much greater numbers) outside the Kabul airport yesterday. I too grieve for the lost military men (I don’t think there were any women) and their families. But I would point out I also grieve for the 901 people who died of covid today in Florida under the watch of Ron DeSantis.

Then there are those who oppose Biden and look for any excuse to blame everything on him because they are either all-Democrats-are-evil Republicans or the remnants of trump’s followers, may their numbers decrease. Their opposition is irrational, and they will not listen to reason (though I keep hitting my head against that brick wall). They are the people who insist the withdrawal could have been done better, but when you ask them how, they have no answer. Include Kevin McCarthy in that number, as he whines about 5,000 Taliban prisoners released and overlooks that it was trump that negotiated that release. They are probably also the people who are taking ivermectin.

And finally there are the people who just have to criticize. It doesn’t matter to them who’s in power, because they are automatically against that person, sure that we are being cheated, scammed, lied to, robbed of our rights—you get the picture. I am reminded of the unvaccinated man who, dying of Covid, said, “I don’t like being told what to do.” American freedom and individualism have long been traditional values, but these people take that idea too far. If you told them the sky was blue, they’d have an argument.

This is getting way too long but let me close with a thought of what each of us can do: look at yourself, examine your beliefs, and then become part of the solution, not the problem. What is within your capabilities to do? Write your congressperson with support, not a complaint; volunteer to help those who need it, including welcoming Afghan immigrants. Look around—you’ll find an opportunity.

And do try to avoid being shrill. That’s my resolution.

Blog dilemmas—what to write?

 

The first Kelly O'Connell Mystery
published in 2011; republished, 2016

No post last night because I had nothing to say, except maybe to jump into the political fray or the great mask hullabaloo which I generally avoid doing in the blog. I have strong feelings about masks, as you might suspect—I can sort of understand vaccine reluctance, though I pretty much view it as superstitious or stubborn—but I can’t understand all this crowing about masks and freedom. How did the two become intertwined? Your freedom ends at the point it intersects mine, or as someone put it, your freedom to swing your arm ends at the tip of my nose. There, that was more than I wished to say.

And Afghanistan: I feel strongly that the media is crucifying Biden when they should be praising him for managing the largest human evacuation in history—nearing 100,000 tonight. Yes, he and his administration made mistakes, but I am weary of Facebook experts who know just what he should have done. Truth is, even with all I’ve read, I don’t understand the complexity of the Middle East and couldn’t begin to discuss it intelligently. Questions about how many Americans are left in Afghanistan and how many Afghans we’ve been able to get out are all over the net, with a lot of accusations and misinformation. I shared a couple of informative articles on my Facebook wall. Check it out if you’re interested.

I was accused tonight of being a racist because I posted thoughts on the difficulty of getting Afghan citizens out of the country—I failed to mention women and the terrible fate that awaits them under the Taliban. Yes, I am heartsick about it, but that wasn’t what I was posting about. The subject was evacuation, and how my accuser went from that to claiming I only care about white women, never those of color, I will never understand. Here’s the funny part: I was so indignant when I read the criticism that only the first name registered, and I thought it came from someone I considered a friend. Turned out it was a stranger. Whew! Glad I didn’t jump my friend. But the huge problem of racism is not something I’ll tackle in my blog.

I did have a couple of successes today: after two days of fruitless effort, I managed to create a series page on Amazon for my eight Kelly O’Connell mysteries. Now I have to wait 72 hours to see if it really worked. But you know the satisfaction you get from figuring out a computer tech problem? That was me. And I registered a dispute with Discover over a pair of shoes for which I was charged but which never arrived. (Seriously, thirty minutes after I filed the dispute, the shoes arrived.)

I do have writing news that makes me happy—I’ve started editing the second Irene book, Irene in Danger, and I’ve reached out to editors, readers, and a designer, tentatively scheduling the publication for late October. With two books, Irene’s story is now a series, and I need a series title. You can help. My thought so far is to call each book “An Irene in Chicago culinary mystery.” That gets Irene and Chicago in there but leaves out Henny and Patrick. Still, it’s the best I can do without creating a title that is an entire paragraph on its own. Your thoughts? Comment below or write me at j.alter@tcu.edu.

I even had vague thoughts about a third book—Irene Saves the Day. Irene has been on the victim side in the first two books, so maybe it’s time for her to switch roles. And maybe Henny opens a restaurant—or becomes a chef in an upscale Chicago restaurant? I won’t get it written for over a year because I have two more major projects on my desk. But it took me that long to think about the second book, so who knows?

And those are all the things on my mind tonight. The writing and cooking parts make me happy because they are the only ones I can control. Know that feeling?

My no-post post

 

This will be brief tonight, because I don’t feel I have much to say. I am heartsick over the Texas Supreme Court decision backing Governor Abbott’s ban on face mask mandates, and I worry about all those young children returning to overcrowded classrooms with probably half their fellow students unmasked. So grateful my grands are all vaccinated. And I am heartsick over the too-quick fall of Afghanistan. The latter is not our problem, though we’ve made it that for too long; the former is indeed our immediate and urgent problem.

My personal opinion? Governor Abbott is running for president on a purely pro-trump agenda, from hard right on individual “freedumbs” to spending a fortune of taxpayer money on a short, two-mile section of the wall that never will be built and never did any good anyway. And his “all hands on deck” to deal with the flooding in the Austin capitol? Showmanship to appeal to trump’s base—he’s a man of action and courage. No, folks, he’s a mean, little man with no compassion, no concern for anyone besides his own ambitious career plans. The thought of him as president sends me scurrying to check my passport.

Afghanistan? It was an exercise in futility, and we should never have stayed there. But it traces back, not to Biden, but to Ronald Reagan and the Iran-Contra affairs. Google it and study up if you need to. And Trump set the deadline for withdrawal and had already withdrawn the bulk of our troops. Not only do our troubles in Afghanistan go back ro Reagan, so does our problem with immigrants at our southern border. Reagan and cohorts used the profits from armed sales to Khomeini, in exchange for hostages though they denied it, to fund Sandinistas who over-ran a socialist government in Nicaragua and installed a dictator. The godawful conditions in Central America trace back to that. When will America learn to tend to its own problems and stop trying to impose governments and regimes on other countries. And that should include lessons learned in Vietnam, but apparently those lessons were never learned. We have enriched the war machines in our country at the cost of an unbelievable number of American lives. More heartache.

All that aside, I had a peaceful day, with online church, a bit of cooking, some reading, and a nap. The day was capped by dinner with Jean—salmon burgers, made from fresh salmon not canned, and a wilted lettuce salad because I knew she loved that. Plus Jordan’s brownies for dessert. And Jean brought me two big, beautiful tomatoes from the Farmers’ Market. I foresee a tomato sandwich for lunch tomorrow.

I’m going to sleep and try to wake in a better frame of mind, figuring out how I, as one individual, can contribute to the causes I care about. Right now, I figure my concern for students is balanced against my anger at Abbott and those parents who whine about liberty and their freedumb so they can send sick children to school unmasked.

Surely the world will look better tomorrow.