The beauty of a get-away

My blog and I have been on vacation, along with my Fort Worth family. We spent a few days in the Pecos River area of New Mexico, at the cabin of good friends. And we had a wonderful time. I have always been drawn to New Mexico—I swore I wanted to move to Santa Fe but had to content myself with visits. This time I saw an entirely different part of the state—high mountains in the Santa Fe National Forest. I learned again that I love the scenery, the fresh air, the crisp temperatures—and I loathe mountain driving, even as a passenger. I am white-knuckled on hairpin curves. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t have missed a minute of it.

Jacob at Cowles pond

We went ostensibly so Jacob could fish—the Pecos is a fast-moving, shallow, freezing cold river full rainbow and brown trout. Jacob fished several times, once with a guide who is a neighbor of our friends and gave him a slow introduction into casting in fast mountain water. The first evening there he and our friends’ grandson caught their limit or close to it---and we had pan-fried trout for dinner.

Castenada Hotel by the railroad

Armand Hammer University

I expected to spend my days working at my computer while the guys fished but not so. We went into Santa Fe one day—highlight of the day was a prolonged happy hour at La Fonda. Another day we explored Las Vegas (NM). It’s an unexpected treasure of a town with a rich heritage, a history full of outlaws and railroads and mining. We had lunch in a historic hotel and then stopped for drinks at the restored hotel by the railroad tracks. Drove out in the country to see Armand Hammer University—in a castle-like building, although we couldn’t get close to it.

More on New Mexico tomorrow, maybe on the food, and on the wind turbines that are all over northwest Texas.

Political confession coming up

I have too often been accused of being a fervent member of the Democratic party, and I am always taken back to my dad, who used to say he voted for the best man (not many women ran for office when I was a kid). The best man just always turned out to be a Democrat. I’ll admit that’s true for me too. I was raised in a household where FDR was a god, and Truman not too far behind him. My dad even cooperated with Richard Daley, Democratic mayor/boss in Chicago. I have rarely if ever voted for a Republican candidate.

But it goes beyond that. In the past if I thought a Republican was the best candidate, I would have voted that way. No longer true today. I am openly, honestly anti-Republican. People ask how I deal with Republican friends, and I must admit that I have few to none. The people I chose to spend my time with are those with values and concerns like mine—compassion for others, leading the list. I have a few Republican acquaintances that I like, and one brother that I adore who refuses to even enter an open discussion of politics with me. My suggestion that open discussion benefits everyone falls on deaf ears.

This hard-core stance has been strengthened, confirmed, whatever, by the Republican reaction to the Las Vegas massacre. This, they uniformly declare, is not the time to discuss gun control; it’s a time for mourning. Hogwash! If there ever was a time to discuss America’s disgraceful record of gun deaths, it’s now. We cannot avoid the uncomfortable statistics that America leads the world in gun deaths, and certainly is way out in front of developed countries. I have found fascinating and frightening statistics on Facebook and shared most of them.

One I particularly like is a long list of things that are regulated—women’s bodies, leads the way, but there are others—liquor sales, driving, school bake sales, home improvements, driving a car, owning and caring for a dog, cutting hair for a living. The list goes on with endless trivia—but guns are not on it.

The administration recently made it easier for people with mental health issues to buy guns—anyone remember Newton? And there’s a bill before the House now to legalize silencers. It includes a rider or whatever to permit bullets that can pierce body armor. Who is the wide world needs to pierce body armor? Who needs an assault rifle? The NRA and they own the Republicans, bought and paid for. Speaker Ryan, with great sensitivity, has tabled the bill, which simply means he’ll wait for the public furor over Las Vegas to die down and then introduce it.

The lack of compassion is evident in other matters: Republicans just let CHIP insurance for nine million children expire, yet the House has passed a strict—and probably unconstitutional law—covering abortions after 20 weeks. Just when a woman finds out her baby may have serious, life-threatening deformities. Ah yes, compassion. They care more about unborn children than those that are here, sick, starving, uneducated. They now want to re-establish CHIP (how many desperately ill children have died during this lapse) and extend help to children in Puerto Rico but they’ll salve their consciences by cutting Medicare—which isn’t theirs to cut.

The list goes on. I write to my senators, yes I do, but they are both hard-core Republicans and send me platitudes in response. In general, with few exceptions, I find Republicans to be dishonest, devious, greedy, self-serving, and lacking in compassion. They value dollars in their pocket over human life, even in the face of a tragedy that killed 59 and wounded well over 500.

Yes, I’m anti-Republican. And I will do everything in my power to defeat the party in upcoming elections. We as a country are caught in the grip of a party that thinks more of its donors than of its constituents. It’s way past time for a change.

We must not let the memory of Las Vegas die, as we did the outrage of Newton. Take as a slogan, "If not now, when?" and keep the anguish, the horror, the indignation alive. And above all, vote those sobs out of office.

My Beautiful Black Dog

I missed Black Dog Day a couple of days ago. Can’t remember what was on my mind Sunday—probably not much. But last night, like all our nation, my mind was on the massacre in Las Vegas. I haven’t put that tragedy aside, but first I want to pay tribute to Sophie, my black Bordoodle (deliberate cross of a miniature poodle and a border collie). Why she came out of that cross black, or really black tipped with gray, I’ll never know.

At six, Sophie is into middle age but has lost none of her enthusiasm for chasing squirrels and other creatures that might invade her yard. She’s also enthusiastic about visitors, making her welcome plain. Woe betide the occasional strange she doesn’t take to—I am immediately suspicious of that person. In short, Soph has a zest for life that is a joy to see. And affection? She demands to be first in line, in front of the other two dogs.

Sophie has gotten more protective as she ages. If I go in the main house for dinner, she goes for a bit but then wants to come outside, where she stands guard at the cottage door until I return. Generally, she starts out the night by my bed, though during the night she migrates to the couch or her favorite chair. She’s had a little problem the last two nights. Colin has slept on her couch. When I got up in the middle of the night last night, she quickly appropriated the spot in the bed I’d vacated and expected to return to. It took a little coaxing to move her, and at that I had barely enough space to keep from thinking I would momentarily fall out of bed. But I had a warm body pressing against my legs.

Tonight, Jordan and I sat outside with the three dogs. Lovely evening, but every time Sophie chased a squirrel, Cricket, the older of the two Cavaliers, tagged along with a look on her face that said, “What? What should I do now?” June Bug, the one who’s been under the weather, just ignored them both.

A bonus to our evening happy hour—two blue jays flitted back and forth from the edge of the roof to branches of the oak tree above them. I know they don’t have a nest this time of year, so we were curious. And, oh rare occasion, we saw a hummingbird flitting about the hibiscus. Now if only the cardinal would come back.

I cannot get Las Vegas out of my mind—nor should any of us. I was appalled today to read that this was the 273^rd shooting this year, albeit much more spectacular (sorry, can’t verify the statistic, but it sounds reasonable).. Stephen Paddock earned himself the dubious distinction of being responsible for the largest mass shooting in American history, even surpassing the slaughter of Lakota Sioux at Wounded Knee. I worry now about who will set out to beat that record—a grisly thought.

Republicans have uniformly deflected calls for tighter gun control by saying, “Not now. This is not the time. This is a time for mourning.” My indignation knows no bounds. If not now, when? It’s appalling to me that these men and women callously ignore the rate of gun deaths in this country compared to other developed (and most undeveloped) countries. It is beyond acceptance with a shrug. We must vote these people out of office, make gun control a major issue in the upcoming congressional elections. The callousness of the Republican response baffles me. They seem, as a collective group, to be totally without compassion.

Even Stephen Scalise did not come forward, he who was critically wounded by an out-of-control gunman last spring. It’s like they never learn, they never sense the mood of the public. Makes me think more about where I want to live next—Canada? All those health benefits, tight gun control (no machine guns). Looks increasingly attractive.

Hmmm. Do you think I could get my family to go with me?

Another Day of Infamy

By now, I doubt there’s an American who has not heard the news: 512 people shot, 58 killed, by a single gunman. We don’t know his motive, probably never will. It seems likely that he was severely emotionally or psychologically damaged, although his family seems unaware of any such history. His father was once on the FBI Most Wanted list—what, if anything, does that have to do with today’s horrific event?

On Facebook today, the mood of the country seemed resigned to “This is the kind of country we live in.” The only developed country that has such mass shootings—though never this large before—on a regular basis: we average two a month. And citizens feel we can do nothing to change it. I reject that thinking. We can and must change it.

Ten days after the shooting of school children in Newton, Connecticut, support for stricter gun control began to fade as the horror of that massacre faded from the public mind. We seem to have short memories for that which is unpleasant or uncomfortable. By ten days later, a CNN poll showed that 52% of Americans opposed stricter gun control.

Will that happen again? Americans right now are stunned horrified. There will undoubtedly be a call for stricter gun control. But will it last? It seems to me we face a choice: Do you want to take a knee with the NFL or do you want to shrug in resignation when a man shoots over 500 people. For me, today’s event dramatizes the choice in characters that faces our nation. While this massacre was not racially motivated, or so we assume, it demonstrates the unleashed violence of our culture, the violence that football players are peacefully protesting.

Change begins at the local level, with each one of us. Will you stand silently by and shrug or will you take a knee?