Some fuddy-duddy thoughts on decorum

 

Lots of articles on the web these days “explain” what has happened to the Republican Party and to the House of Representatives. Pundits trace the change in the Grand Old Party to Ronald Reagan with a heavy dose of Newt Gingrich’s “Contract with America.”  They give Reagan and his political heirs credit or the blame for policies which favored the rich and powerful and disenfranchised the poor, nearly obliterating the middle class. Trickle-down economics, which they fondly quoted and still try to implement today, obviously did not work.

But what I’ve not seen much written about is the disturbing lack of decorum in recent House proceedings. When Lauren Boebert disagreed with something someone said, she loudly shouted out, “Bullshit!” An inappropriate term, especially in a setting where speakers generally follow the formality of asking the Speaker or Chair to recognize them. In the last day or two, members engaged in shouting matches and at one point a member had to be physically restrained from attacking a colleague. We could not have looked more like a third-world country.

For some time, a line I vaguely remembered has been floating through my mind, something to the effect that in a democracy, the lowest common denominator will eventually rise to the top. I thought it was attributed to one of the Founding Fathers, probably Thomas Jefferson. But it turns out it goes back much further—it was Plato who said it. He called it “rule of the rabble.” A wonderful phrase. It means rule by a mob or masses with intimidation of legal authorities. Sound like the Freedom Caucus or whatever they call themselves?

While we’re on the subject of language, some on the internet have referred to McCarthy’s humiliating 15 attempts to win the speakership as a Pyrrhic victory, one won at too great a cost to the victor to be really counted as a win. Truthfully, I hope and pray that Kevin McCarthy comes to that recognition. His is and will be a hollow victory.

More language: someone suggested that McCarthy become an adjective for a hollow victory: “His was a McCarthy win.” Elsewhere, someone thought Kevin should become a verb for repeated attempts at the same thing with the expectation that the outcome will be different the next time. As in “I kept turning on the ignition, but the motor kept kevining and kevining.” Kevin McCarthy is now the butt of so many jokes, I have no idea how he thinks he can gain enough respect to rule.

There, that’s off my mind! Other than disgust with McCarthy and the whole disgraceful, embarrassing sequence of events, today was a lovey day. I slept hard last night, the first night in weeks. Sophie wasn’t here to wake me, but nether was she on my mind, worrying about her. I have reached a certain level of comfort with the care she is receiving.

This morning we went to visit her, and she had a bit of a spring to her step, wandered around rather than lying apathetically on the floor. Her lab work is not perfect but looking better. Poor baby has great shaved patches for medication purposes, and her tail is wrapped to keep it clean (it looks like a purple rat tail), so she’s a bit pitiful looking. To me, her eyes said she was still not her old, happy self. But she is so much better. Jordan took her on a walk around the parking lot, and she moved right along, didn’t seem to tire. No idea yet when she can come home. She is one of two patients over the weekend, so she’s getting plenty of attention.

Otherwise, my day was emails, exploring the news, reading a bit, and taking a great long nap. Everything one should do on a lazy day. And tonight, I had a delightful dinner with Sue and Teddy—Sue (my Canadian daughter) fixed a chicken roulade with a pasta side dish, one of her neighbors brought a wonderful salad and another a pound cake. I was so pleased to be a last-minute addition to the party. Sue said she waited for a report on Soph before including me. Teddy chauffeured me and treated me like a fragile princess going in and out of the car, up and down steps, etc,--I could get used to that! Interesting conversation, good food, good company—a nice evening, and I was glad to be out and among people.

On the way home tonight, Teddy asked what I plan to do tomorrow, and I said, “not a darn thing except watching church.” But Monday I plan to get back to work—oh, oops, a doctor’s appointment in the middle of the morning will interrupt my work.It seems there’s always something to get in the way of my good intentions.

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.

The temptation to be a recluse

Holiday weekends are sometimes long for people who live alone--friends are busy with families, my local family often has plans (like the PGA tournament this weekend). I had Jacob for company Friday night and part of Saturday, company for brunch Sunday. But my lunch plans for Monday fell through and I didn't have much work on my desk. It looked like a long day inside looking at the rain.
Two things happened: Jordan asked Sunday night if I wanted to go to brunch with them to meet friends (their friends are incredibly nice to me) and several projects, one big, landed on my desk this morning. I decided I'd change my mind about going to brunch and stay home--after all, I was used to being home alone from Saturday and most of Sunday.
But then I thought when you're tempted to stay home is when you should get out of the house. I went with them to Joe T.'s, had huevos ranchero and enjoyed the company, saw Jacob's signed golf ball and pictures of his hat and glove, signed by the winner. Jordan came in for a few minutes when we got home, and then I got back to work.
I find when I stay home a lot, it's hard for me to make myself go out, even for things I enjoy. In fact doing just that after being home sick for a week accounted for my last fall, the one that sent me into physical therapy. It's so easy for me to wrap myself in a cocoon and stay home.
At the same time, I'm a social being by nature, and I need to get out of the house. One friend said I bring people to me rather than going out after them, and that's something I must work on. It's like a lot of things, like my walking exercises--you have to take it one day at a time, and instead of drawing the circle tighter around you, always push at its limits.
The comparison to my physical therapy is apt too. I have too many people willing to help me. Sunday in the rain the newspaper  was in a place that was hard for me to get to. I decided to go down the driveway and approach it from the street, but I had one of those moments--instinct or fear turned me back, and then I was mad at myself. The friends who came for brunch brought my paper in and assured me they were glad I didn't go get it.
Today at Joe T.'s I was walking on a brick walkway--sometimes uneven surfaces make me less certain but this really wasn't bad. But because either Jacob or Jordan were next to me, I held on to them. I've got to learn to think of my cane as the person I'm holding on to. Beating myself up about that one too.
Enough with the confessions.

A hidden museum you should find

If you live in the DFW area and haven't found the Museum of the Americas, you  really should take a trip to Weatherford. You'll find the museum tucked away in a couple of storefronts on the highway that leads right to the courthouse. Co-owners are Dr. Harold and Elizabeth Lawrence, and it's a joy to see people so wrapped up in and thoroughly enjoying what they're doing. The four main rooms of the museum feature art and artifacts of Native Americans, Mexico and Latin America. Last night's exhibit was a sampler of Regional Art of Latin America. Oil, acrylic and watercolors, a stunning piece of metal work, sculpture, some unusual glass sculptures. Harold gave a fascinating gallery talk on the work in the exhibit--artists lived in, worked in and were influenced by various cultures. Some pieces were clearly influenced by cubism; others reflected the politics of the people's movement; all were fascinating.
My favorite collection in the entire museum is the arrowheads--if you go, get Harold to tell you the story of how they arrived in a jumble that he carefully sorted, researched, and assembled. It's an education in itself.
Elizabeth always has delicious nibbles, and the eclectic crowd that gathers for the openings is fascinating. I see several people I haven't seen in a long time--in fact, went with dear old (take that two ways) friends I don't see much.
After I got home I reflected that I don't get out enough to that kind of affair, and I always have such a good time when I do--mixing learning and sociability. Much as I enjoy it, my world is limited to writing, a grandson, a few friends, and of late dogs--who are barking at each other right at my feet. This was supposed to be last night's blog but by the time I got home and caught up with myself and the dogs, I confess I went to bed. Pretend you're reading on Saturday night, please.

Some thoughts on a social day

I had breakfast, lunch and dinner at the Old Neighborhood Grill today, the small but wonderful restaurant that figures so prominently in my Kelly O'Connell Mysteries.
Breakfast was the monthly meeting of the Book Ladies,, most of us now retired from careers that had something to do with books. We have two authors, me and Carol Nelson Douglas, a former reviewer who has contributed chapters to textbooks, retired librarians, and so on. Sometimes we talk about books--who's reading what, etc.--and sometimes we talk politics. Sometimes, as with most groups of women our age, the talk degenerates into health care but that's rare. Today it turned briefly to the writing careers of Carol and me and how many books we have each written--and then Carol gave us the history of the ebook rights contracts that have tied up profits for so many authors. Trying to be modest about my diet, I had one egg over easy, a thick slice of orange, and half a piece of toast to slop up the yolk.
Lunch with a friend I don't see often enough but we always laugh and have a great time, mostly talking about families and grandchildren. Genie was good enough to help me once with a major injury for a character in one of my books--because she'd had that injury and one of her daughters is a physical therapist. Once again, we were good--all side vegetable dishes.
Tonight was neighbors' night at the Grill, an occasion Jacob rally looks forward to, especially now that friends Subie and Phil Green are back in town and bring Phil's seeing-eye dog, Santiago, to dinner. I'm not sure who Jacob likes best--Phil, Subie, or Santiago. Tonight he went so far as to determine the seating arrangement. I had a slice of meatloaf and some green beans--but I snacked on some of Jacob's fries with ketchup. Surely my diet will forgive.
Came home just in time to meet Jacob's parents and they sat for a glass of wine. So all of a sudden, it was nine o'clock, I hadn't written a word on the novel, and I was too sleepy. But you know the lesson of the day? Enjoy sociability when it comes your way. I can always work. I saw a blurb on msn.com today about how loneliness can lead to an early grave, and tonight I thought how fortunate I am to have such an active social life, so many friends. I don't have drop-dead deadlines except those I impose on myself because I'm compulsive, and probably this is the time of life to relish the joy that comes my way. (Jacob kindly informed the whole table of my age tonight.)
It reminds me of a self-help tape I had for a long time: "Life is Uncertain. Eat Dessert First." The other afternoon Jordan, Subie and I were contemplating my new living room arrangement, when Jordan asked, "Did your realize Jacob just went and helped himself to ice cream?" No, I hadn't, and I really encourage him to ask first--to prevent constant snacking. But before I could protest, she called out, "Jacob, did Juju teach you that sometimes it's okay to eat dessert first?" I honestly did one night recently when he was in a funk. My own lessons come back to haunt me.
But I like today's lesson about enjoying my family and friends at this point in my life. A thousand words a day suddenly doesn't seem that critical..