Learning about the past

 

When I first saw the title, Dinners with Ruth, I was all excited because I thought it would be a book about fabulous menus at dinners with Ruth Reichl. Alas, the Ruth of the title is not Reichl but Ruth Bader Ginsburg. They say perseverance is the key, and I persevered—and was hooked.

This is mostly a memoir by award-winning NPR legal correspondent Nina Totenberg, and her life is interesting enough to keep me reading without RBG. I’m halfway through the book as of this evening, and RBG is there like a thread woven into the text. One of the things that has always stymied me about memoir is that I think it needs a peg to hang it on. You can’t just write, “This is my life” and expect to attract readers, no matter how thrilling, adventuresome, exotic your life has been. There needs to be that theme, that idea that holds it all together. For Totenberg, it was her friendship with RBG through many professional ups and downs, marriage, widowhood, the whole gambit of life. It might well have been Cokie Roberts, whose comforting, efficient presence hovers over this book like the housemother/big sister/aunt every woman wishes for.

But it is RBG who holds Totenberg’s attention. They connected by telephone in the sixties and became friends in the seventies. Those were still the days when women could not own property, open a bank account, apply for a credit card. The general opinion was that a woman needed a man to care for her, and her job was to keep the home fires, raise the children, cook the meals. None of that appealed to Totenberg, who was single, and RBG who was married and had a child. They fought their way, almost literally, into careers in journalism and the judiciary—places where women were not welcome.

I remember those days because, on a much smaller scale, I fought that battle. I was working on a Ph.D. in English in the late sixties and held an NDEA (National Defense Education Act) fellowship by which my tuition and fees were paid plus a stipend for living expenses. In return, I taught one class of freshman English each semester. There was a hue and cry in the department that another girl and I should not have fellowships because we had husbands to support us. Her husband was a fellow graduate student, also on a fellowship if I remember correctly, and they had two daughters. My then-husband was a surgical resident, and I brought home $30 a month more than he did. Our combined monthly income was something like $730, and I remember yet his indignation when he had to pay his first income taxes--$7.77.

So far, Totenberg’s story plays out against the background of politics in the last quarter of the twentieth century, particularly the politics of judicial appointments. I’m learning a lot about events that I remember but didn’t understand at the time. For instance, I remember the hearings about the appointment of Robert Bork to the Supreme Court, a nomination which ultimately failed. I knew there were people aligned against him, but I didn’t understand what an arch conservative he was in a time of legislative cordiality nor how smugly confident he was.

Totenberg is a good writer who pulls her audience into the story and makes us feel that we are there with her—in the courtroom at Timothy McVeigh’s trial, in the hospital room with her dying husband, at the opera with RBG who is distracting her from tragedy. She makes me think of the power of good writing, and the ability of words to sway, persuade, inform. Totenberg is pretty straightforward.

The other thing she makes me realize is how complicated political life in D.C. is, what a complex understructure holds it together, how politicians, the judiciary, and associated personnel can call in a debt or pull a string or ferret out a bit of needed information. I can’t decide if I am reassured or frightened by that, but I think Totenberg has a good grasp of what goes on and is a honest journalist, striving for distance from her subjects and yet making them come alive.

Much to my surprise I am enjoying this book. I suspect the last half will have more about RBG.

Time Out

 

Sophie was mad at both Christian and me over
the small matter of flea medication. So she
was very glad to see her best friend, Jean.

Do you ever just take a day off? No, I don’t mean a day off from your job. I mean a day off from your life. Yesterday morning, I decided to cancel the world for the day. I didn’t feel sick, but I felt awful—exhausted, no ambition, not hungry, didn’t’ know what I wanted, but sleep sounded good. So about eleven-thirty I crawled back in bed and slept for an hour and a half. When I woke, I ate a piece of toast, cancelled the German potato salad dinner I had promised to cook for Christian and the friend who was coming for happy hour. I went back to bed and slept the afternoon away. Dinner was two scrambled eggs—and even that sat uneasily on my stomach—and I went to sleep early for me, about ten. Slept ten hours, if you don’t count getting up twice with Sophie and a couple of times for the bathroom. This morning, I had my groove back—hungry, ready to work, looking forward to cooking dinner tonight.

What happened to me? I think that old word, stress, covers it. I had about decided that the book I’m working on, which is projected to come in at 75,000 words would probably be 20,000 at best and that’s a stretch. The back of my legs hurt because I’d leather-burned them and taken a top layer of skin off during the extreme heat—so much for shorts when you have a leather seat on your walker and your desk chair. And, most of all, the world around me made me tired.

Do you read Heather Cox Richardson’s almost-daily column, “Letter from an American?” If you don’t read it, I highly recommend it. When I looked at last night’s column this morning, her words jumped at me: she wrote that it’s been a difficult week and called it “freaking exhausting.” And then she signed off. That was it for me. “Freaking exhausting.” Yesterday, was the first I read about the probable decision of the rogue SCOTUS in the fall which will hand control of elections to the states. I read a complicated article that projected that such a decision effectively threw out the popular vote, handed the choice of electors over to state legislatures, and rigged the election for the Republicans. Today I read a fantastical projection on that scenario that forecast riots in the street with rogue militia groups shooting protesting citizens, thousands of our citizens dead, and the president (projected to be DeSantis if the law goes into effect) declaring an emergency and ending all elections. Fantasy? Hopefully so but remember (most of you are probably not old enough) how fantastical George Orwell’s 1984 seemed when it was published in 1949. And much of it has now come true.

I am truly scared beyond belief. Someone has to do something about this out-of-control court which breaks precedence with every decision. Their decisions go against popular opinion, but I don’t know that it’s written anywhere that they must listen to the people. But it is established that precedent dictates the law of our land. And they are flouting it.

Beyond that, if I can get beyond it, today was a good day. I worked on the book but without the sense of urgency I’d felt all week. I’ll take it bit by bit—and some days those bits come hard—and see what happens. Only when I’ve exhausted all the notes I have and the new research I can do, will I begin to worry about the length. Maybe I can add a whole lot of pictures.

Tonight Jean came for supper, and Christian joined us for happy hour. Wide-ranging conversation about many topics including Christian’s experiences as a child model and TV actor, politics, and I don’t know what all. He elected to go to the movies with a friend and so didn’t stay for supper. If he had, I’d have fixed the potato salad I didn’t fix last night, but Jean and I had green shakshuka—poached eggs on a base of spinach flavored with onions and garlic and topped with queso fresco, avocado, and cilantro. Served with squeezable limes. So good, even if we did get the eggs a little harder than either of us wanted. Traditional shakshuka poaches eggs on a seasoned tomato base, but the green is a lovely alternative. Jean chided me when she looked at the recipe because I left out the jalapeno. I always do.

And here’s my nostalgic look back at Jacob’s young years. I am quite sure he was heartily singing, “Who Let the Dogs Out?” because we sang that over and over until I thought I would scream. The rest of the family thought it was hysterical, but I was weary. Today it’s a memory I treasure.

Feeling invisible

 

The Supreme Court ruling doing away with Roe v. Wade essentially made women second-class citizens, without the autonomy that men enjoy. For some reason that reminded me of a feeling that I have experienced lately especially with medical personnel. Because I no longer drive, Jordan accompanies me to most medical appointments, and too often, the doctor, nurse, whoever talks to Jordan about me, as if I were invisible or, at the least, addled. I’m not sure if it is the wheelchair (if a long walk is involved, we take my transport chair instead of the walker) or if it is just age.

One day last week, I had an appointment with a physician I’ve seen off and on for maybe thirty years. He talked directly to me. Jordan occasionally offered an opinion, and he acknowledged that. But his focus was on me. But when an aide came in with the follow-up paperwork, the aide completely ignored me and talked to Jordan. Some time ago, when I had a root canal, the oral surgeon explained carefully to Jordan what he had done, showing her illustrations. I was still in the dental chair, but he could have turned me around to see the illustration. He didn’t, and he told her in careful detail what post-op procedures I should follow. I was a second-class citizen. And now I am permanently—or until the ruling is reversed.

I’ve been wondering today about checks on the Supreme Court, because so much of what I’ve read indicates that was a flawed and heavily biased decision that follows personal agendas of the justices. Justices Kavanaugh and Barrett apparently lied under oath in their confirmation hearings, saying that Roe was established precedent and would not be touched. Justices Thomas and Barrett are obviously compromised and should have recused themselves, he because of his wife who was involved in plotting to overthrow our democracy, and she because she is associated with a restrictive organization from the religious right that does not promote women’s rights. Can they be impeached?

Scholars have been quick to point out problems with Justice Alito’s written decision, from his reliance on an eighteenth-century jurist who prosecuted witches to his focus on nineteenth-century thinking on abortion, influenced as it was by the status of women in the pre-Civil War days—they could not own property or vote and were essentially chattel owned by their husbands. Like the refusal to ban assault weapons, it applies historically out-of-date thinking to twenty-first century problems. Historian Heather Cox Richardson pointed out in her “Letter from an American” last night that Alito’s decision relies on inaccurate history. Other sources point out that the decision flies in the face of established precedent and is the first time the court, which usually grants rights, has taken away an established right. What the heck is going on?

And where is Justice Roberts in all of this? I read that he wanted a slower approach to the abortion problem (and problem it is!) but didn’t prevail. Exactly what are the responsibilities of a chief justice? What authority does he hold? He seems to be just letting the court run rogue without any direction. Should he resign?

Where does the will of the people come in? Quite obviously the majority of Americans want abortion laws relaxed, even if not entirely written out of the books. What if any is the court’s responsibility to the people of the U.S.?

And why are so many men pushing for rigid abortion laws? I understand the position of some Christians, ranging from orthodox to evangelical, that abortion is murder of a living being. But when it threatens the life of the mother or gives life to a badly deformed fetus, I don’t understand the rationale. I respect others’ beliefs, but I want them to respect mine, which is that an established life takes precedence over an unborn fetus when a choice is necessary. Interestingly enough, that is written into the Talmud where abortion is explicitly called for if the mother is in danger. Although the Bible, as Christians know it, praises God as the creator of life, it does not explicitly mention abortion.

So why are these men so rabid on the subject? I hate to believe that greed for money and power would lead them to run roughshod over lives, but what else, besides a prurient interest in intimacy, could it be? Are they so threatened by the increasing power of women in business, the arts, and life in general that they must subjugate us, take us back in history instead of forward to the future?

I don’t think this is the last word, and it will be interesting to see it play out. Meantime, though, some women are caught in the moment. More than one clinic waiting room was full of patients with procedures scheduled for that day when the decision was announced. The would-be patients had to go home. And not many of them can afford to fly to California.

Oh, Eve! Why did you eat that apple?

American women are almost unanimously united in the belief that justice was served yesterday with the sentencing of Bill Cosby and his classification as a violently dangerous predator. Certainly, I agree—women accused him in overwhelming numbers, he drugged and raped them, and he damaged or destroyed a lot of lives. Still I found it sad to see “America’s Dad,” old and blind, led away in handcuffs. The image chipped away another bit of our image of ourselves as a moral nation. We are not who we like to think we are.

Tomorrow I will rearrange my work on my desk to watch the Senate Judiciary Committee’s investigation of Christina Blasey-Ford and Brett Kavanaugh. I am interested to see Ford and hope she can conduct herself with dignity, but I’m afraid my mind is made up on Kavanaugh. His innocent “Oh gosh! Who me? I would never do that!” act or as someone called it his choir-boy image is too much to be believed. The way we see him fawn over government leaders on TV these days makes it easy for me to believe he would do whatever to be one of the boys back in the eighties.

It’s not just two accusers—one credible and one a bit uncertain—who seem to confirm his guilt. It’s the aura of nastiness that surrounds his high school and college years. Too many people testifying to the culture and groups he was part of, too much inuendo, too much guilt by association. If he truly is innocent, I would think he would be the one to request an FBI investigation. But no. I believe he even declined to answer some questions in committee because they were too personal. Not a privilege he can enjoy at this point.

We all know that this SCOTUS appt. goes beyond the irreparable damage he does and can do on the bench. The way our government treats women, the respect we’re shown, the control over our bodies, our freedom, our lives all hang in the balance. Along with other major issues such as fair treatment to workers, survival of endangered species—a whole frightening laundry list.

But I think, like the Cosby case, the significance goes beyond that and determines the image of America as a moral nation. It’s almost a morality play with the good guys in white hats and the bad in black. Are we going to allow ourselves to be bullied by scum like Mitch McConnell and John Cornyn who would ram an appointment through for the sake of party and not country, not democracy? Or are we finally at last ready to stand up and declare that it’s time for the good guys to win?

It’s not easy. Today a few men (and a couple of women) hold that power in their hands, and we are momentarily dependent on their sense of morality. The Founding Fathers wisely wrote checks and balances into the Constitution, but I fear they never foresaw a situation where an entire party would be as corrupt as we see today.

I am a bit cheered to hear the idea floated again of impeaching Clarence Thomas—apparently another woman has come forward to second Anita Hill’s accusations. I doubt anything will come of it, but it’s nice to know Supreme Court judges can be impeached in extremis. I read somewhere that if confirmed Kavanaugh will be “impeachable.” 

Call me Pollyanna, but I still believe the guys and gal in white hats will triumph. Sometimes I'm impatient about how soon.

That Niggling Sense of Unease

June 26, 2018

Sophie and her cousin Cricket in a dull moment

at the cottage

Sophie has the right approach to life, I’ve decided. If there’s nothing interesting, she sleeps—on the floor, on the couch, in a ridiculous position in a chair. She sleeps. If a squirrel invades her back yard, she’s on it in a flash. If someone comes to visit, she’s Miss Personality. But home, alone, with me, she sleeps. She never feels that niggling sense of unease that I do.

That sense was strong with me when I came home from the dentist today, so I sat and thought about what was causing it, and I identified three things:

I lost a ski from my walker, the insert that makes the legs glide along smoothly. When I stashed the walker in the car, I had both skis; when I pulled it out, both were missing. A girl had come out from the dentist’s office to make sure I didn’t fall, and together we found one ski on the floor of the car. She replaced that and searched and searched but couldn’t find the other. So I limped around with an unbalanced walker. I have other skis, but they probably aren’t the same thickness, etc., and the balance will be off.

Second source of unease: I thought I was just going for a cleaning, but the dentist announced that I need three small cavities filled. I fear that his definition of small and mine vary significantly. The last time I had a “small” cavity filled I thought I was going to die. My A Fib was undiagnosed at the time but going wild, so that I thought my heart would beat out of my chest, and when I was tilted back I thought I’d drown in my own drool. The hygienist promised she would make it better, but when they offered me an appointment tomorrow I said, “No. Later.” So I go back July 9.

The SCOTUS ruling on the travel ban was the third thing that upset me because I think it goes against every principle this country was founded on and because it demonstrates what Gorsuch is doing to the high court. That was further emphasized today in rulings on abortion (those pretend clinics that exist to talk women out of abortions don’t have to advertise that they have no medical facilities or personnel) and the ruling that essentially allows gerrymandering to discriminate against minority voters. Welcome to Trump’s world.

Justices Sotomayer and Ginsburg wrote a rational dissenting opinion to the travel ban, tracing its origins clearly to Trump’s anti-Muslim campaign speeches and early presidential attempts to float travel bans against Muslims. Now he’s succeeded in banning “terrorist” countries (in some of which we created the terrorism) but it’s really disguised religious (and racist) prejudice. The United States was founded on the principle of religious freedom, welcoming all of any faith. How far we have fallen and how quickly.

I think I’ll just go quietly to sleep. I’m sure Sophie will wake me if anything exciting happens.

More baby steps and another rant

All is quiet at my house tonight. The restoration company, Blackmon Mooring, has taken their roaring, drying, and dehumidifying equipment out of the sunroom. And the roofers have finished so no more banging above my head. I have to say everyone I have dealt with, from Blackmon Mooring to Glenco Roofing, has been extremely courteous, kind and conscientious. I won’t say it’s been a pleasure, but under the circumstances they’ve made it the best they could. Now we wait for the insurance adjustor who will come a week from today—seems like a long time, but I’m sure they’re overwhelmed with damage in this area.

Now my rant, a rant that so many people have posted about that mine is redundant. But I can’t believe that Mitch McConnell said the NRA would have to approve any SCOTUS appointment. Did I blink and we elected LaPierre to office? It’s a blatant admission that the NRA is filling McConnell’s pockets. I cannot believe the United States people were dumb enough to keep re-electing this man. Living in Texas is bad enough politically, but I am grateful I don’t live in Kentucky and have to bear this shame. I saw today a post that said McConnell doesn’t realize the box that President Obama is building around him, and I think that’s true. Another post said something to the effect that, not to diminish the president, but outsmarting McConnell is not much of an accomplishment. What I like is the president’s patience waiting for his trap to spring. McConnell is like the rat who goes after the cheese. I shudder to think how his name will go down in history.

Blatant politicking: it’s another reason to vote blue this fall. I think we all have to pay close attention to what’s happening in the campaign and to get out and vote.

Okay, off my soapbox.

My only other comment is to say that I am still so tired. I think it must be an emotional aspect to the hail disaster. Jordan said the other day her eye was twitching—a stress sign for her; one of my eyelids is broken out and swollen—a stress sign for me. We will be fine, but it’s baby steps. She doesn’t want me to go into the back room with its uneven flooring, so she’s doing the laundry. Tomorrow, I’m going to get out in the world—PT in the morning, a lunch date, and dinner with neighbors. So glad for sociability.

Stuff but no nonsense

I honestly don't know where to begin tonight. I've spent a lazy day at home--catching up on housekeeping matters like laundry, writing, napping. This evening friends came by for happy hour, and I was glad for company. I'm still basking in the glow of having spent about thirty-six hours with my four kids. There's a bond between them that is so wonderful--without spouses and children (all of whom I love dearly) it was like they were in college again--they laughed and giggled, they played pranks, they drank too much (but remained well behaved). I raised them as a single parent from the time the oldest, Colin, was twelve, and once again it was the five of us together--only better, because they have the maturity of middle age and family responsibilities. I too wish all sixteen members of my immediate family could have been in Lubbock with me, but I am grateful for this time with my four. I am always grateful for time alone with any one of them--and this was even better.
But while I was all wrapped up in my world, it's been a momentous and happy week in our country. So much has been written about the SCOTUS decision on marriage equality that anything I can add would seem superfluous, except I'm overjoyed for the LGBT community and for our country. A good friend named Winston helped me raise my children--taught them to drive, to ride horseback, and to misbehave. They adored him and called him Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was gay as a goose and had a string of lovers, one of whom gave him AIDS. He died in 1994. When Jamie heard the news of the decision, he said, "I wonder how Uncle Bob would have felt." I wondered if it would have led Uncle Bob to lead a more monogamous life...or if he'd just have made a string of bad marriages. I did read where someone predicted that in a year all the hullaballoo will have died down and gays will begin divorcing just like the rest of us.
In the wake of the momentous marriage equality decision, it seems that the affirmation of ACA got overshadowed, and yet it's so important for millions of Americans. I saw a lengthy post on Facebook today of pictures with people standing in line to sign up. The poster claimed these were images the mainstream media didn't want the public to see--I'm not sure about that, but I do think the announcement may have spurred more people to sign up. I used to carefully avoid saying Obamacare and use the correct Affordable Care Act, but you know what? I think Obamacare is a fitting name--it may become our tribute to his presidency. Maybe now after who-knows-how-many failed attempts to dismantle the law and two SCOTUS decisions, John Boehner and his cronies will move on.
It's truly been a great week for America--and for me personally.

Troubling times

I'm upset today about several matters. That old phrase--the world is going to hell in a handbasket--seems too true tonight.
Like many, I am upset, angry, you name it over the Supreme Court decision in the Hobby Lobby case. There are so many reasons why it's wrong--gender discrimination, personal liberty, all the things that have been mentioned ad nauseum on Facebook. But the big problem, to me, is that it's another push down the slippery slope toward a capitalistic oligarchy. SCOTUS (always makes me want to add an "r") has consistently sided with corporations against individuals. That's not the country our Founding Fathers had in mind--remember individual liberty? The phrase, "With liberty and justice for all"? We slide farther and farther away from that all the time.
I was never a big fan of George W. Bush (no chuckles from those who know me well, please) but it seems to me we are feeling his legacy. He supported corporations and gave them big tax cuts--too many of which are still in effect today. And the five appointees who constituted the majority in yesterday's decision are all, I believe, Bush appointees. Those appointments have long-lasting effects, and I suspect if any of those five wanted to retire tomorrow they'd hang on until 2016 in hopes of a conservative president. (Let's not even mention that the current trouble in Iraq is part of the Bush/Cheney legacy too).
A country where corporations rule will be a country where the individual counts for nothing. It reminds me in some ways of the Industrial Revolution, where individuals were swept aside in favor of machines. Read The Education of Henry Adams for insight on that issue.
Then today I read that we are deporting 25,000 children to Mexico, children who fled to avoid the abuse and torture of the cartels. Their parents, fearing for them, sent them alone across the border...and we are sending them back to that very life. Who knows if any, particularly the tiny ones, will ever find their families again? I was particularly taken by a commenter on Facebook who pointed out the cartels wouldn't be so powerful if it weren't for the U.S. insatiable market for illegal drugs. We create the problem, and we make it worse.
No, I don't know what to do with 25,000 undocumented, parentless children, but there's got to be a better way than sending them back to a life of horror.
And then there are homophobes who take the SCOTUS decision as license to discriminate against gays--I can't quite figure their logic, but I know the hatred is there.
I truly wish I lived in a country of compassion and love, not hatred and greed.