The problem that is Russia—and ours

 

 

Like most of my generation and those ten, even twenty years younger, I have vivid memories of the Cold War, that period of deep tension between Russia and the United States that never, thank goodness, blossomed into a hot war—it remained a standoff for too many tension-filled years. If it began in 1947, as is generally accepted, I was nine years old. I remember (or is it just that I’ve heard it so often?) William Faulkner’s acceptance speech for the 1949 award in literature, with its classic line, “I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal … because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.” I remember Joseph McCarthy and the lives he ruined searching for communists in every woodpile (one might think of today’s desperate effort to impeach Biden). I remember the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962 when we were sure that Russian nuclear weapons were about to descend on major American cities. I was in a small town in Missouri, and I urged my parents to leave Chicago and travel to Missouri. I was sure, by staying, they would die. I do not remember hiding under my school desk to avoid an atomic bomb—how futile that seems to us with our knowledge today—but I think that came along after I had completed my early schooling. What I do remember and will never forget was that Russia was the archenemy of the United States. It was a giant, evil bear lurking over our lives. Eventually into the sixties, the tensions lessened. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics broke up, Russia seemed less a threat, and life went on. But I never ever forgot our history with Russia, the stories we heard about the KBG and work camps in Siberia, and other horror tales. Russia was always the enemy. Today, Vladimir Putin, with a KGB background, has brought those days back with a vengeance—not only by invading Ukraine but by his handling of dissent—prominent people poisoned, falling out of skyscraper windows, dying in prison. And his plan to infiltrate American politics and social media and influence the direction of our country has been wildly successful.

It boggles my mind today to read that some Republican members of the House will admit that Russian propaganda has infiltrated some members of the Republican Party, and sometimes the Russian line appears on the floor of the U. S. House of Representatives. (Heather Cox Richardon has an explosive column about how the Russian propaganda machine has been effective in America since trump’s election: (61) April 8, 2024 - by Heather Cox Richardson (substack.com) MAGA representatives oppose aid to Ukraine, saying that we need to spend those dollars at home to help the poor—disregard that they are the party who is desperate to cut social security, Medicaid and Medicare and continually votes to close school lunch prograns and anything designed to help low income families get a grip. Disregard also that stopping Russia now ensure the security of America in the future, and also that economists point out that helping beleaguered countries boosts our trade partners in the future—when that war is over and Ukraine stabilized, that country’s grain supplies will again become crucial to the world—and to America.

The presumptive MAGA leader, one former president of our country, has a plan to end the war in Ukraine: he will simply give Ukraine to the Russians, and then fighting will cease. (He has apparently not consulted Zelensky about this). MAGA followers have no idea that stopping the Russian incursion into Ukraine is vital to our country’s security. If Russia is allowed to swallow Ukraine, it will have been rewarded for breaking international law in an unprovoked attack on another country. Russia will then be free to march across Europe, swallowing countries. America will be left without major allies—in addition to defense, that would weaken our trade with other countries, our sales, our whole economy. People who advocate isolationism simply don’t realize what a small world we live in today—America would not survive without its allies.

Have these MAGA folks not studied their history? Do they not know about the Cold War, the Cuban Missile Crisis? Do they not know a bit of earlier history about Germany doing just what Russia is now trying to do—march across Europe subjugating countries. In the late 1930s British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain agreed to let Germany annex Sudetenland, a German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia, because Hitler promised not to take any more land. We know how that worked out. Chamberlain’s disastrous policy of appeasement led to WWII.

Does Marjorie Taylor Greene not know any of this history? Matt Goetz? Mike Johnson? It is appalling to me that we have elected so-called leaders who are so blind to the basics of democracy and to our history. I don’t know whether to blame our education system for not teaching them history or to place the blame squarely on their shoulders for being seduced by power and notoriety. Either way, we need leaders with a grasp of history and diplomacy and international relationships. Trump and his minions are not that.

Rant over.

From a flower-filled cottage, some thoughts on empathy

 

Sophie's white rose from our longtime vet

My cottage is in bloom! An Easter Lily, a small bouquet of roses tucked into an Easter bunny vase, a white rose in a bed of baby’s breath, a plant new to me called Orange Star, with stalks of just-about-to-open orange buds. This is just part of the outpouring of support I’ve gotten since I first posted about Sophie’s battle with diabetes—a short two weeks ago, though it seems an eternity. The internet has been full of supportive messages, a couple of friends have stopped by for hugs, others have called. And so many have said to me that they too had to make that hard decision about beloved family pets, and they understand what we have been going through. For me, empathy has been the key word of the week.

My computer defines empathy as the capacity to feel or understand what another person is experiencing. In other words, I feel what you feel. And in this case, my many friends feel and share my grief and sense of loss. Even before we saw that we were going to lose Sophie, I’d been thinking about empathy, because I read a blog on that subject.

The U. S. Army psychologist assigned to watch and study the defendants at the Nuremburg Trials wrote that he became very interested in the nature of evil, and after the trials he believed that the one thing that bound those heartless criminals together was a lack of empathy. They were unable to feel the experiences of their fellow men. He concluded that the lack of empathy defines evil in a person. The blog continued with two quotes from Reddit. One claimed that conservatives invent new derogatory words for empathy about ever fifteen years: “politically correct,” “bleeding heart,” and, the most recent, “woke.” The absence of empathy, the writer claimed, is a prerequisite for conservative ideology.

The second quote points out that the conservative point of view starts a lack of empathy, a viewpoint that is formed in one’s earliest years and is almost impossible to change in later years. “Many conservatives are beyond redemption.”

Now that our country is so horribly split, I think the lack of empathy in many conservative positions is clear. We know, from generally accepted accounts of trump’s childhood and the writings of his niece, Mary Trump, that the ex-president was raised in what might best be called unhealthy situations. He was taught to disregard others early on, repeating the family pattern of corruption set by his grandfather and father. They lived by takin advantage of others. There is no hope of changing him at this late stage of life. So he sets a horrible example, and he made it publicly all right in his administration to lack empathy. Joe Biden, a man who stoops to help a stuttering child or give a few dollars to a homeless man, a man who loves animals, is a man of empathy.

But it’s not just trump. We see that lack of empathy l around us—in the disregard for the lives of women with life-threatening pregnancies, the callous attitude toward immigrants at our southern border, even the willingness to stop free school lunch programs. It is an “every man for himself” attitude that boggles my mind. I don’t think we can dismiss it as politics. It is a moral issue, not political. For me, as a faithful Christian (not of the nationalism type(, it is a religious issue. If I follow in the steps of Jesus, I must recognize that his greatest command was to love each other. But that morality is not limited to Christianity—the care for others is found in all the world’s major religions, and—with a nod to critics of religion—I must say I find the world better for that teaching.

Sometimes empathy is hard. It makes you draw a moral line. I saw a news clip of the perpetrators of the Moscow mass killing bring brought into court. They had obviously been beaten so badly they could not walk upright and were dragged, and no matter how heinous their crime, I felt for their agony at that moment. No, I didn’t want to rescue them, and I knew I was powerless, but at that moment I felt their experience. To me, that is empathy.

I cling to the Pollyanna-like belief that most of the world is empathetic—there are good people out there who don’t want to let children go hungry, or immigrants drown in a river full of barbed wire. I believe, to alter Faulkner’s words a bit, that the good people will prevail. And this week, I’ve had a clear demonstration of that love. It has bolstered me, and as I keep saying, I’m grateful. And I’m okay. You know the thing that bothers me most? Looking at the empty spot where her crate was, where she loved to lie in her safe space.

Sweet dreams, everyone.

 

In the aftermath of the Paxton travesty

 

Sophie being cute. Photo by Jordan Burton.

But I also hope that folks across the country — even in “safe” blue geographies — are finally, finally, after years and years of ignoring the folks who’ve been making the argument, starting to understand that Texas isn’t an outlier, it’s a bellwether. It’s a miniature funhouse mirror showing us a terrible preview of what’s to come for our national political situation if we don’t course-correct (or, more terrifying but possible, can’t course-correct).—Andrea Grimes, Home with the Armadillo (Substack)

Sorry, but this is another political post. The dangers of too much power in any man’s hands has been on my mind for a while. As far back as Harry Truman, conservatives found the word “socialism” an enormous threat; for progressives today, the fear-laden word is authoritarianism: power in the hands of one person. Authoritarianism vs. democracy.

The facts are a bit scrambled, but in 2022 Elon Musk refused to let Ukraine use his Starlink communications system to coordinate a drone attack on a Russian fleet in the Black Sea. Ukraine and its allies were “concerned.” Musk claimed he averted a much bigger catastrophe—read a hint of nuclear revenge. Whichever side is right, the fact is that one man, holding the power of communication, may have changed the course of the war. And that one man was not a military specialist, not a government representative. Just a man who is incredibly rich and controls a major communications network.

We see these one-man power struggles all around us. Ron DeSantis has come close to devastating Florida with his strict laws enforcing what history is taught, what books students can read, who can vote, what rights women have, what medicine trained physicians can practice, who you can love and who you cannot, who can play what sports. Strangely enough, he has not carried his extreme control into the area of gun safety, and there are few restrictions on gun ownership. His never-ending grasp reaches into every aspect of every Floridian’s life--and he’s probably not done yet. Florida is suffering because of it—citizens, particularly physicians and college faculty, are leaving the state in droves. But so are LGBTQ citizens, parents of trans children, probably Black citizens. Economic results are also being felt, with DeSantis biting the hand that feeds him—the enormous Disney complex that hires thousands of Floridians and brings millions of tourists to the state. What advantage DeSantis sees in creating this 1984-ish society I can’t see, except that it outdoes trump and appeals to a narrow segment of ultra-conservative voters. Perhaps—oh, make that probably, there’s a whole lot of personal ego involved too. There’s been so much pushback out of Florida that I’m not sure how big his base in his own state is.

Greg Abbott of Texas is of course another example of a leader gone power-mad. Abbott came to prominence as the Attorney General who sued the federal government every day, a clear sign that he was not into supporting democracy. He has not only passed draconian laws concerning guns—no license, no training, young age limit for ownership, any kind of gun is fine, including concealed—but he too has unrealistic laws concerning abortion, voting, gay and trans students, book bans, etc. His inhumane and devious tricks at the southern border have brought him clashes with the federal government, but he remains defiant—while even young children die.

Texas and Florida have earned contempt from much of the nation. One could say they are laughingstocks, but there is nothing funny about the disregard for the individual human life. That disregard negates everything this country was founded on: the principle that all men are created equal. Those regimes definitely move us toward authoritarianism.

One can’t quite say that Paxton has that much power, but what his acquittal shows us if that if you are a useful tool to powers with money, you can grab onto power and hold it. Corruption, in favor of the moneyed few, gives Paxton his power, and in many ways, it’s as scary as the domination of authoritarians. Anyone with half a brain, watching even a portion of the impeachment proceedings, knows that Paxton was guilty. His own attitude and absence from the proceedings seem to indicate that he knew it didn’t matter. He was confident and, to our detriment, it turns out he was right. Corruption won out.

The former guy, as Joe Biden calls him, has long been a known admirer of authoritarian leaders, from Hitler and Mussolini to Putin and Kim Jong Un. What semi-saved us from some of his worst ideas was that he had a minority in the House. Democracy worked, to some extent. Trump is already spouting his plans for a revenge reign, should he return to the White House in 2024. And he has famously said that he listens to no one but himself. Scary words from an overweight man of questionable mental stability who has surrounded himself with corrupt advisors. What Joe Biden did when he first came into office was to surround himself with experts in many fields.

I watched a video recently by a reporter who toured Kevin McCarthy’s district, the farming heartland of California. It was scary. Almost to a person, voters said Biden was too old and they were thinking they would support trump again. The word authoritarianism means nothing to them. I won’t use Hilary’s term deplorables, but I will say they are among the uninformed who believe every bit of disinformation handed to them. Without questioning it.

I leave you with a scary thought: does the Paxton acquittal presage an acquittal for trump? I would hope not. Trump will be tried n a courtroom by a jury of his peers, not by politicians with political loyalty to blind their judgement. But in this day, no one can predict anything. I for one want to fight hard—against authoritarianism, against corruption, for democracy. Hope you’ll help. There’s no room for complacency now.

 

 

 

 

Political puzzlements

 

Every once in a while, my anger, my indignation gets the best of me, and I feel the need to dip into matters political in this blog. Tonight is such a night. If you want to turn away, I’ll understand. The source of my puzzlement is of course the man some have referred to as the orange buffoon. Now thoroughly disgraced in the eyes of most of us, he is still front and center in the daily news. So I’m throwing out some things that puzzle me, not expecting hard and fast answers, but perhaps some will share their thoughts

We hear constantly about trump’s plans for his next term as president, as though it were a given certainty. Much of what he plans to do is apparently illegal, but he’s good at manipulating, and I have no doubt, back in office, he would consolidate power in the presidency. That’s one of the more scary thoughts, considering the direction he took the country in his term—disease uncontrolled, debt ballooning out of sight, international relationships destroyed, environmental controls ignored and cancelled, infrastructure improvements promised but never delivered.

But so much that indicates that he will never hold office again. For starters, most Americans think he deserves a trial and punishment, and if statistics are right, most of us assume he has done at least half of what he’s accused of. So who’s going to vote for him? (I know—the cult; but how big are their numbers?)

Legal scholars, even conservative ones, are coming forward in recent days to declare that the fourteenth amendment absolutely means trump is ineligible to hold any federal office because instigated a revolution against our country and violated his oath of office. Even though that has not yet (stress yet) been determined in a court of law, most folks agree. But if that’s true, and if the Senate has to vote on his eligibility (I think that’s the way it works), who is going to put that in motion? We can talk about it for two years, but it shouldn’t wait until after an election.

Then there’s the question of his mental stability—just ask his niece, Dr. Mary Trump. Or maybe we don’t have to ask her. Clearly, he is impulsive, uncontrolled, without compassion or intellect or any idea of the social bounds that govern most of us in our daily lives. Does he fit the definition of a psychopath? Sociopath? I’m no expert, but it seems to me experts are testifying, granted at a distance, to his instability. So once again, who puts things in motion? The 25^th amendment is no help now, since it applies to sitting presidents. So who declares a candidate mentally unfit for office? It’s a question not much considered in elections in our long history. But we have never before elected a man like Donald J. trump.

On the other side of these weighty questions are the MAGA folks who are threatening to shut down the government unless the DOJ backs off all charges against trump. I’m not sure the American people would stand for that, let alone elect him. Why would we let a minority dictate that the rule of law be abandoned?

Yet these folks seem convinced of the rightness of their arguments, and I am left puzzled. Do they really believe, in the face of all the evidence and court cases, that the 2020 election was stolen? And do they really believe that President Biden weaponized the DOJ to help him defeat trump in 2024. They have watched trump throw most of his colleagues under the bus—do they not realize they could be next? And do they really believe that they can sway the 2024 election by hounding Hunter Biden for being the president’s son?

How many American voters assess the candidates logically when deciding on their votes? I’m afraid it’s a disappointing number. If people were paying attention to policy, they would see that the Democratic policies, as enacted by President Biden, have put our country on an upward path—economically, internationally, environmentally, etc. Those logical voters will see that the Republicans have no policies, no plans for the American future. They are too busy trying to blame Biden and his family for what they call the disastrous path that America is on.

In some ways, it all comes back to education—and that explains why DeSantis, Abbott, and other Republicans are trying to destroy public education. An educated voter will see through the smokescreen of lies and choose the party and leader who has solid plans for the future of the country.

I sure would welcome some comments.

Some days are discouraging

 

Tonight we brightened the end of the day with an open-faced roast beef sandwich with mayo/horseradish sauce, blue cheese, good peppery watercress, diced beets, and a bit of vinaigrette. Jordan added avocado. It was pretty and delicious, and the day needed brightening, because I thought overall it was a discouraging day.

Some days I read the news online and hear it on TV, and I think the good guys are winning. Today was not one of those days. As we all know, this summer climate change has become uncomfortably real, and we read daily of heat domes and heat records set not just in our Southwest but across the globe. It has made people more aware, but will it have any effect on the politicians who cling to their profits from fossil fuels?

I read today of something called legal vigilantism. Basically, if I understand it correctly, it empowers ordinary citizens to enforce laws. The precedent is the Texas bill which allows citizens to collect a reward for turning in people who have had or try to have or arrange an abortion. It echoes the nineteenth century fugitive slave law, when citizens were rewarded for returning runaway slaves. Authoritarian leaders use legal vigilantism to sow distrust and to use citizens against each other to enforce laws. Think Nazi Germany.

The Republican Party, once the defenders of law and order and, above all, the military, are now attacking the military, the Department of Justice, and the FBI. Senator Tommy Turberville of Alabama has put a hold on all military promotions until the military rescinds its policy of granting paid leave and providing transportation for travel, when travel is necessary for an abortion. The result is crucial leadership posts are left vacant, many officers are serving at the rank and pay below what they’ve earned, morale is down, and some are leaving the military. Way to defend your country, senator!

Much of this—the attacks on the DOJ and FBI, etc.—is done with the unspoken goal of protecting trump who faces ever-increasing legal woes, as well he should. None of it is done with the idea of advancing or supporting America or its international position. MAGA Republicans, for instance, want to stop aid to Ukraine and may make that a bargaining chip when the debt ceiling rolls around again. President Biden has wisely said that Ukraine should not be admitted to NATO until the current war is over, because such admission would put America at war with Russia. But he sends weapon and support to fight what could turn into Russia’s march across much of Europe. Do Republicans care? Apparently not many of them.

A couple of things baffle me about this. I am reluctant to elieve that these people care nothing about their country. I understand that they don’t care about us as individuals. They are more interested in their own greed and power than in equal opportunity, individual rights, and the like. They have made it plain with laws that suppress individual rights, from voting to abortion. But can they really want to betray their country for the sake of one man who most believe is a crook without conscience, probably a traitor, certainly an unsavory, unreliable person?

The other thing that puzzles me is how many of these extremists who support trump are there? Some reliable articles call if a fringe, but others point out that his rallies draw large crowds and he is by a good margin the top-running candidate for the Republican nomination for president. Is it all blind, loyal followers or are there still politicians who are afraid of his power, afraid to cross him? 

So I got to thinking today about what my ideal for our country and the world would look like. If I could wave a magic wand today trump would be in prison, Abbott would no longer be governor of Texas, and Biden would be a shoo-in for the presidency—yes, he makes gaffes but overall his political wisdom and maneuverings amaze me. Russia would be defeated, Ukraine would be rebuilding (Putin might even fall out of a window). There would be no stockpile of lethal weapons in the world. People would drive electric cars recharged by solar and/or wind power. The EPA would have limitless power to enforce laws to ensure clean air and water, ban forever chemicals, and ensure the safety of our environment. That all surely won’t happen in my lifetime, but I welcome the small steps toward progress that I see.

Today I read of two groups that give me a bit of hope—one, called Win It Back, is running anti-trump ads. The group is tied to the Koch network and is ultra-right. I probably wouldn’t like many if any of them, but I applaud the ads. Much more to my liking is Mama Bears, a group with international chapters, founded by a Christian Evangelist housewife with the intent and purpose of supporting the LGBTQ community and seeing that LGBTQ citizens have all the rights and opportunities of everyone else. That lone woman demonstrates to me the power of one person’s voice and encourages all of us to be active citizens.

Okay, lecture over. Tomorrow maybe a lighter subject—and a light dinner again. Tis summer after all, and tomorrow the news may be all good.

Booster, prayers, and a wry laugh

 

Finally got my new Covid booster today. I mentioned the other day I’d gotten the run-around trying to book an appointment for the Moderna booster at the only local place I could find that has it. We were early for the appointment, as requested. Walgreen’s was late, though when the woman finally gave me the shot, she was most pleasant and also skilled—a painless shot, and tonight my arm is tender but not really sore. But back to the wait at the pharmacy—we were there at least forty-five minutes. When we got to the pharmacy—why are they always in the far back corner of a humongous store?—I was ready to sit down, so Jordan checked me in. I can’t tell you what all occurred, but she was at the counter a long time. When she finally came to sit by me, she said, “They make it so difficult—no wonder a lot of people just won’t bother.”

Jordan herself has had difficulty. You can only make an appointment online or by telephone—and when you try by telephone, you get the dreaded automatic voice on the other end of the phone. Jordan tried online the other day and was told she is not eligible. I thought that was wrong, because this booster has been highly touted for everyone twelve and up. A neighbor said no, you must be over sixty-five or immune compromised. That didn’t sound right to me, so Jordan asked today. She is eligible, but they couldn’t make an appointment with a living, breathing person in front of them. I suppose the earlier verdict of ineligibility was a computer glitch, and if she tries again, it will go through. But she’s not inclined to try again right away, says it’s a busy week, and I should not bug her, so I am keeping quiet (do you have any idea how hard that is for me?).

At any rate, I think it’s bureaucracy gone amuck, and she’s right. The process needs to be streamlined. I know that’s easy for those of us on the consumer end to say, but I’d like to get the word to someone with clout. President Biden counts controlling the pandemic as one of his victories, as well he should, but he needs to have someone look into the delivery process. It’s sad to think people won’t inconvenience themselves, because the number of daily deaths is still high. We had a local case this week of a forty-year-old dad who died. I have no idea of his vaccination status.

The weather around the world seems to have gone amuck—mudslides, floods, typhoons in all corners of the world. Tonight, comes word that power is out to the entire island of Cuba, and Ian is expected to make landfall in Florida as a Category Three or Four hurricane on Wednesday afternoon. Two and a half million people in Florida—think of the enormity of that number! —have been asked to evacuate. Ferocious storms like Ian—and some notable earlier ones like Katrina, Harvey, and Maria—cause damage that is beyond comprehension for those of us who sit inland in safety and pray that maybe we’ll get some rain out of the storm. I remember driving in the Houston area with my daughter-in-law Lisa showing me the high-water marks on buildings. Astounding.

Please join with me in praying for the safety of all those in the path of Ian.

Nice to end the day with a laugh, although I’m sorry to say my laugh makes me sound political and biased once again, but Republicans are having a hard time these days. Dr. Oz said John Fetterman’s habit of wearing shorts and hoodies made it seem that he was attacking authority in the balls—and thereby gave Fetterman a wonderful slogan in a state where people would line up for blocks to attack authority. In Texas, the pretty obviously corrupt Attorney General Ken Paxton, who keeps sticking his nose into other states’ business, ran from his home to avoid a subpoena—literally almost ran. He was in a truck driven by his wife who is a state senator. Paxton has been under indictment for seven long years with no court date, because he keeps gaming the system. And now to think his wife is a state senator. No wonder Texas is a political mess.

But the saddest funny story of all is that trump and DeSantis are now calling each other names. The former guy calls DeSantis “fat, phony, and whiny” (terms that could apply to himself as well) while DeSantis calls his former sponsor “a moron who has no right running for the presidency” (that too could be a two-way street).  And these two adolescent bullies want a chance to run our country? I don’t think so.

So there you have it: a day to inspire prayers and laughter. Do get our booster. It’s worth the trouble.

World horror overwhelms the trivia of cold weather and hobby cooking

 

The national flower of Ukraine

Cold, wet days have become the norm this winter, and today was yet another one. I so wanted to crawl into my bed and hide there, and I did take a longer nap than usual, just because I was so warm and cozy. I just might slip back into bed earlier than usual tonight. The low is predicted to be 29, and tomorrow is not going to be a lot better.

Tomorrow is the Cowtown Marathon, and sometimes I think it is as predictable a weather forecaster as the stock show. All those years ago—1978—I remember sitting in our bedroom and hearing my then-husband swear forcibly, followed by, “Sleet. I did not want to hear sleet.” He was one of the lead organizers of the new venture. Next morning I piled four little kids into the car and headed for the Stockyards, over icy roads, to be part of the support crowd. I look back on that and wonder where my brain was. Oh to be young and fearless again.

As it is I did not poke my head out of the cottage today. Nor did I cook as I usually do on weekends. Still, it is sort of a foodie weekend. Last night I made a skillet of sauteed mushrooms and sweet onions. I honestly think I like the onions as well as the mushrooms—a new revelation for me. I sauteed them in olive oil and butter, added garlic and the white wine. After they were off the heat, I added lemon juice and zest. Jordan and I are the only ones who like mushrooms, but we enjoyed them.

My mushroom skillet

Not so good were the salmon balls I impulsively bought from Central Market. They had Parmesan, which I thought sounded good but now think made them dry. And they had too much of some herb—oregano, maybe. I kicked myself, thinking I could have made my regular salmon patties and we’d have been a lot happier.

Doris' casserole
with one serving out for guess who?

Today Jordan made family favorite Doris’ casserole (think American lasagna or something similar) to take to a neighbor who has just had surgery. I got some for my dinner, and it was delicious. Also a pretty casserole. The Burtons meanwhile have gone to an upscale sushi restaurant for a fundraiser. My sushi palate is not wide—I love salmon sashimi and I’ve had some lobster rolls I exclaimed over, but I’m not adventuresome—and they are downright stodgy. Far as I now, they stick to California roll because neither wants raw fish. The restaurant where they are going is so much for an “in the know” crowd that I had no idea how to order the one time I went. I will be interested in their report.

After a week of distractions ranging from doctor’s appointments to Zoom meetings and a Podcast interview, I am glad to say that I wrote 1300 words on Irene’s latest adventure today. But I find it hard not to watch the TV with one eye or check the news feed constantly. I am waiting of course for what will probably not happen—Putin returning to the negotiation table. The invasion he apparently expected to be a walk in the park has not turned out that way.

So many stories coming out of Ukraine to inspire us: the Russian battalion that surrendered because they thought they were on an information-gathering mission and had no idea they were expected to kill people; the old woman who gave Russian soldiers sunflower seeds (the national flower of Ukraine) to put in their pockets so that when they die on Ukrainian soil flowers will bloom; the families with young children who are making Molotov cocktails; the street signs that have all been changed in order to confuse Russians—now, in Russian, they read “Go f--- yourself.”

I’ll leave you tonight with one thought that came to me today as I contemplated the international condemnation of Putin and support for Ukraine: what would have happened if trump were still president. Nothing would have played out the same. President Biden has been the point man in organizing international sanctions and resistance, and he has done it with wisdom and grace. Just my opinion, but trump having alienated most of our allies, wouldn’t have known how to begin to get them to pull together and given his loyalty to Russia, probably wouldn’t have tried. Resistance would have been scattershot. As it is, with Biden at the helm and joined by other NATO allies, the reaction has been unified and forceful.

My mom always told me the gods work in mysterious ways their wonders to accomplish. Perhaps this is another instance. Pray for the people of Ukraine tonight, but also pray for the people of Russia who are innocent pawns in this mess and who are risking life and freedom to protest. Hardly a night to wish everyone, “Sweet dreams.”

 

Those pesky masks—or the pesky people who won’t wear them

I wish I could say I am so done with people who won’t wear masks, but the truth is I can’t say that. They walk among us in alarming numbers. Just today I have been accused of living in fear and told to go back to hiding under my bed because I advocate masks in public. And I have seen pictures of crowds where maybe half the people were masked.

My funniest story is about a friend—not an evangelical Christian—who wore a mask to the grocery store. In one aisle she saw a woman coming toward her without a mask, and she commented on it. My friend said, “My mask protects you, and your mask would protect me.” The other woman answered, “Oh, honey, Jesus loves you!” Make me laugh, but it is so serious.

The anti-mask people have a role model in the orange man who squats in the White House. The reason he refuses to wear a mask hasn’t been definitively stated, but the general assumption is that he considers it a sign of weakness, and he, coward that he is at heart, is all about appearing strong. The result is catastrophic. On a recent visit to a plant manufacturing test swabs, he refused to wear a mask, and the company had to throw out all the swabs, desperately needed for corona testing, that they had made that day. He had contaminated them. It doesn’t seem to occur to him that the mask is not to protect him but to protect others. Somehow, he considers himself immune to the virus.

Now, this man, charged with protecting the public good, is threatening to schedule new election rallies and a giant Republican campaign, and he has explicitly said, no masks allowed.

I have decided those who won’t wear masks fall into two categories (they may overlap): those who won’t let the “guv’mint” tell them what to do, by God, and those who are too stupid to understand. Either way, it’s an awful decision.

If everyone in this entire country wore a mask every time they were in public, the spread of the nuevo corona virus would be virtually stopped within three weeks. But no, we see people, even sick people, on beaches, and in protests, and even in restaurants and other places of business, going happily about their business, breathing their germs onto everyone else. I noticed today at the TV showing of George Floyd’s funeral, about half the people were masked.

The people who refuse government suggestions and cavalierly say, “If I get it, I get it,” are so blind to the consequences. If you get the virus, you are in danger of dying, no matter your age or pre-existing condition. A lot of perfectly healthy people in their thirties and forties have unexpectedly died. And it is not a peaceful, easy death with your loved ones surrounding your bedside. You die alone, with nurses, desperately gasping for breath. And if you survive? Maybe you’ll be healthy in a week, but maybe you’ll be like actor Nick Cordero who has been in ICU forever, had a leg amputated, and is just now starting on stem cell therapy.

If you say, “If I get it, I get it” you are not just putting yourself at risk—which is, of course, your right. But you are risking your family and friends. And you are adding one more desperate patient to a health care system already so overburdened that 600 health care workers have died, countless more are overworked and exhausted. I can add a personal note to this: I have a niece who is an RN on a COVID unit in Manhattan. She definitely does not want you as a patient. The statistics on how many people can be infected by one sick person are mind-blowing.

As for those too stupid to wear a mask, we need to find a way to make them understand that the great risk to themselves and their loved ones. Too many are saying, “It’s just like the flu,” or “There’s always illness.” Wrong folks, this is a menace like none known to history. Doctors don’t understand it, can’t predict it s course, haven’t yet develop an effective treatment therapy or preventive vaccine. It is not like any other disease, so get over that.

A confession: I don’t wear a mask much, because I rarely leave my home. But I would if I went out in public, and I have worn one when people came to my cottage. I know they’re uncomfortable and hot in the summer and maybe even an affront to your dignity but get over it. The public health is more important.

I have nothing but contempt for the millions of Americans who refuse to follow the guidelines. They are the reason the United States infection rates are so high, and the disease keeps spiking. Think about it: are you helping your neighbors and just being self-centered?

Protests in America

This is who we are

Not a land of violence and hate

I don’t think any of us can tiptoe around the topic of the protests, what they are doing to disrupt America, and what they mean. So here are a few of my scattered thoughts.

This past week has been a dramatic and intense learning lesson for Jacob. Perhaps because he’s scared (he wouldn’t admit that but then, we all are), perhaps because he never imagined anything like this, he wants to talk about it, explore it. Last night, Fort Worth saw a peaceful protest on the Seventh Street bridge into downtown go violent, and police used tear gas for the first time in this city in decades. Christian and Jacob drove down there on the road safely under the bridge, but Jacob later came and showed me pictures they had taken—what I could principally see was clouds of tear gas floating in the air.

Tonight, Jacob and a buddy wanted to go to Old Neighborhood Grill, just down the street, for burgers. They left a few minutes after seven, with our warnings to be home by eight ringing in their ears. But the grill closed at seven, so that people would be sure to get home. These are the stories those kids will tell their grandkids, but what will their interpretation be? They have no precedent in their memory: I on the other hand remember the night Martin Luther King, Jr., was shot and the riots that followed, and the beating of Rodney King and the burning of Watts. My memory is too full of these things, and I am afraid to hope that this time will be different. Yet it seems different to me, the violence longer lasting and more widespread.

We talked about it last night, and when I said I thought the looting went beyond simple acquisitiveness by poor blacks and was an attempt to create social discord by organized groups, Jacob said tentatively, “I agree with Juju.” Perhaps he’ll see that it is a racial issue, one that’s been simmering too long, but it is also a civil issue, a statement on democracy.

The sitting president spoke briefly on TV tonight. If you know me, you know it’s hard for me to listen to him with an open mind and unbiased ear, but I tried. I really did. I agree with the need to restore order and protect individuals and small businesses, with the lip-service he paid to the genuine protestors and the slight sympathy he showed for George Floyd’s family—he got the name wrong and called him Floyd George. Ah, well.

But when he talks about activating military troops, my hackles go up. And when he blames it all an antifa, I can barely keep from shouting. It’s clearly accepted that outside organized groups are causing much of the continuing disruption, but he has no proof that it’s antifa, a generic name for anti-fascists. He announced he was declaring that a terrorist group—but antifa is the name for a general resistance, not an organized group, so good luck with that. And local leaders, with their feet on the ground and not hiding in a bunker, indicate that much of the trouble comes from white supremacists and from several highly organized groups within that movement. We may never know the truth, but my hunch is that there is some antifa action and a whole lot more neo-Nazi, and at the base, now overshadowed, are the peaceful protestors who simply want to march and chant for  equal justice for all—long overdue in this country.

Will this end racism in this country? Probably not, but perhaps, finally, it is the wake-up call we needed. There is a long road ahead, and true equality won’t happen in my lifetime, but perhaps in Jacob’s.

Is this the end of the trump presidency, as many have suggested. I can only hope. But if it is, it’s a terrible price to pay to free us from an incompetent man who would be a dictator, who fosters hate and incites violence, and to whom 100,000 deaths from COVID-19 apparently mean nothing.

America tonight is in shambles—a pandemic, millions out of work, the economy on the brink of faltering, and riots from coast to coast. No, I don’t believe trump’s prediction that we are on the road to greatness. If we are to move ahead, it will be a long and difficult journey. But I believe, with new leadership, we can do it. I am hopeful.

Tidbits from a significant day

Somehow, today, a blog about what I did today or how cute my dog was doesn’t seem appropriate. I have tried to stay away from politics in my blog and confine my comments to independent posts on Facebook, but as several people have said, today was not about politics. It was about the future of our country. I feel this has been a significant day in American history—the day Americans, or their representatives in Congress, finally got fed up and said, “Enough is too much.”

It’s also been a busy day. Random thoughts cross my mind, some about Greta Thunberg who I think is absolutely amazing. She has the courage and class that those attacking her will never achieve, and her passion has built an enormous following in just over a year. To think of a sixteen-year-old addressing the United Nations—power to the youth! One of the best things I saw today was a picture of her talking with Jane Goodall, their faces lit as their eyes locked. You could almost feel the palpable bond between these two crusaders. And one of the funniest is that image of her glaring at trump. At first, I thought his comments about her were just vacuous, the mumblings of a disordered mind that didn’t know what to say. But then I realized that gave him too much credit—he was openly mocking this girl who understands the world and science in ways he unfortunately never will be capable of grasping.

One of the worst things I saw today was our squatting president addressing the UN and calling for isolationism. With modern technology in everything from communications to weaponry linking us inescapably to every far corner of the earth, how in the world does he expect that idea to fly? It was naïve, self-serving, and outright stupid. It justifies his bigotry and his apparent desire to make America not just great again, but white again. I was pleased to see that Congress today began considering the legitimacy of his ban on Muslim travelers to the U.S.—just now? Better late than never, I guess.

A cheering thing today: the UK Supreme Court bashing Boris Johnson and declaring his suspension of Parliament illegal. What a world we live in when the two mightiest Anglo countries are in such political crisis (though I don’t think we can continue to call America an Anglo country, except possibly by heritage and tradition). With impeachment set for trump and the probable resignation of Johnson, it’s as though, however briefly, the good guys are winning.

Of course, Nancy Pelosi’s announcement of impeachment proceedings was the big news of this busy day. Do I expect those proceedings to remove trump from office? Absolutely not, though it would be a welcome miracle. Do I expect the House to vote for impeachment? Absolutely yes. And that will expose the extent of trump’s corruption, treachery, and quite possibly treason. And the Senate will be put in the difficult position of either convicting or defending a terribly corrupt man at the helm of our country. (Did everyone hear that the other day he began a speech with, “When I took over America….”? Enough to make your blood crawl.)

Impeachment based on the Ukrainian scandal overlooks a list of sins so long that I’s hard to put it into words. Someone posted a list of trump’s abuses of authority recently and when I printed it out, it came to almost three pages. We can’t overlook the leaking of classified information, the confiscation of needed military funds to build the wall which is his obsession, his affinity for dictators and his alienation of our traditional allies, his obviously shaky mental state, his flagrant abuse of the emoluments clause—I could go on for three pages. But if the Ukraine scandal is the thing that does it, so be it. I will be grateful.

It's going to be a rocky ride, folks, and an interesting fall, but I am hopeful, and I have faith in the American process and the American people. Today, we said, “No more.”

Me, Olive Oatman, and mr. trump

            Let me begin with gratitude. I cannot tell you how cheered and comforted I have been by the many caring responses to a blog I wasn’t even sure I should write. And I for sure had doubts about posting that picture. But so many of you have written with words of healing, some sharing your own falling experiences—yep, we all do it, and many offering healing suggestions and cures, from an MRI (my doctor/brother says my symptoms don’t call for it) to a magic cream that help bruises heal. You all make me feel loved, and I am grateful.

My bruises have spread, if anything. The right side of my forehead is now a faint purple, in contrast with the deep red around my eye. Most alarming, I have developed a deep red bruise (or blood leakage) that follows the natural downward line to the right side of my mouth, giving me sort of the look of a perpetual downturn to my mouth. It is not pretty.

I remind myself of Olive Oatman, an 1850s girl of fourteen when Indians in Arizona kidnapped her. They later sold her to the Mojave, who tattooed her face, around the mouth, with blue ink in vertical lines that almost match mine. She later was freed and made a name for herself telling the public about her captivity with as, one source says, artistic license. I don’t think I’ll take to the stage.

I went to nine o’clock church on my computer this morning, because I didn’t want to answer all the questions I was suree to get. During the pastoral prayer, the minister suggested we praise God with our silence. I bowed my head, tried to think appropriate thoughts, and waited what seemed an awfully long time for a moment of silence. When I looked up, the computer had frozen! Jordan was at the eleven o’clock and said she couldn’t help but giggling when the moment of silence came.

But what I thought during that moment was how weary I am of mr. trump. Yes, weary of his disastrous and impulsive decisions that are ruining the world as we know it, but more than that, I am weary of his domination of my life and thought. When I bowed my head to pray, my first thought was something to the effect of “Please, Lord, deliver us from this tyranny,” but then I rebelled. It’s as if he invades all the spaces of my life—and probably yours. Prayer should be private, an exploration of my place in the universe, and how I can help the world. Instead, I’m begging for help, and I’m not sure God wants to be the deus ex machina.

The sermon this morning was titled, “Curiosity,” but to me it was more about doubt. Dr. Peterman preached that doubt, and questions, are signs of a deep faith, while to have no questions is indicative of a shallow faith. I have always had doubts and questions and sometimes envied those who think they have the sure answers, but in my heart, I know better. I’d like to share that sermon—I even know several I’d like to share it with—but that strikes me as intrusive.

It’s a strange world we live in, but I guess if Olive Oatman could turn tattoos into fame, I guess I can turn lemons into lemonade. Or trump into triumph. Anyway I’m trying.

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.

Loss brings us together again

It happens every time, and I think it’s an encouraging and good sign for our nation. Divided as we are, we come together to face the loss of one of our leaders. George Herbert Walker Bush had many distinguishing credits on his resume—youngest fighter pilot in the armed services, member of the House of Representatives, director of the CIA, ambassador, chair of the Republican Party, vice-president, and finally forty-first president of the United States. With such a varied career, it would probably be hard to find anyone (except maybe Barbara Bush) who supported every decision and move he made.

As a lifelong Democrat, I didn’t vote for him, didn’t like many of his policies—from the war in the Middle East to his treatment of gays. But I recognize, like almost all Americans, that he was a true gentleman, a man of honor and integrity, a man who put loyalty to his country above personal pleasure or profit. A shining example in this day when there is a foul smell coming from the White House. I was as indignant as anybody when the “Me, Too” movement censored him for patting a behind here or there. An old man in a wheelchair—let it be.

Bush was also a dedicated family man—can you imagine a marriage of seventy-seven years? I barely made it to seventeen, and I have a friend who used to say marriage has a shelf life of about fifteen years. Not for George and Barbara. They weathered the loss of a young child, raised a large family, led a huge clan of children, grandchildren, and greats, obviously adoring each other all the time. If anything, Barbara probably had the tarter tongue of the two, but she was also a warm woman, a mother, a dog lover, and probably a consummate politician on her own. We mourned as a nation when she died. We came together.

My favorite deathbed story about Barbara: her husband asked, just days before her death, if she would like a cup of tea, and she replied, “I believe I’d like a martini.”

George’s last moments apparently involved a phone conversation with George W., the 43^rd president. They told each other, “I love you.” Not a lot of grown men are capable of that.

So the national mourning began today with the ceremony accompanying placing the president’s coffin on the catafalque in the U. S. Capitol rotunda. There were the usual words of praise—empty coming from the mouths of Mitch McConnell and Mike Pence, who carry the stench of selfishness and hypocrisy about them. Paul Ryan was marginally better—I think his flaws are that he shares the Republican lack of compassion and he read too much Ayn Rand while young.

I am a pushover for affairs of state. I love the ritual, the measured steps and robot-like actions of men in the armed services (there were no women in the honor guard—oops, an oversight?) and I hung on every minute. The music was beautiful. George W. and Laura looked particularly rough, barely containing their grief, and I wanted to reach out to them.

Donald Trump got one of his wishes—a national distraction. This week, he doesn’t have to tear gas children or announce new tariffs to take our attention away from Mueller. We’re already focused on the pomp and circumstance surrounding Mr. Bush’s funeral, an affair of high state. Collectively, we turn away from the swamp to revel in the memory of a good man.

I hope they bury him in colorful socks.

Armistice Day and family moments

Flags are flying. In France they held a commemorative ceremony marking the centennial of the end of World War I. Having flown to France for the occasion, the occupant of the White House didn’t attend because of rain—I suppose he was worried about his hair, but Germany’s Angela Merkel and France’s  Emmanuel Macron stood bare-headed in the rain, while Justin Trudeau talked of the day at Dieppe when it rained not rain but bullets. President Obama walked in the rain through a military cemetery with the graves of those lost in Afghanistan and Iraq. And I am confused.

In my mind, November 11 is Armistice Day. The eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the eleventh day. We all stand for one minute facing east. But that’s tomorrow. Has someone passed a law that we cannot mark Armistice Day on Sunday? Will the Rotary flag at my curb still be there tomorrow? I wish they’d quite messing with the dates of national days of celebration and memorial all for the sake of commercialism.

Nonetheless, our pretender-president has shown us again how fragile he is. Between dodging a few raindrops and attacking Jim Acosta, he’s not coming off as a man of self-confidence. General Bone Spurs rides again.

On a personal level, today held some of those family moments you take for granted at the time and later realize are to be treasured. Last night I asked Jacob if he would run some errands with me this morning. In return, I promised him a sausage and biscuit sandwich for breakfast. He dutifully appeared this morning, ate his breakfast, and we went on our way. I can do the pharmacy drive-in and the cleaners, where I would request curb service to turn in my metal hangers for recycling. But the post office to mail a package and the grocery are difficult me with the walker.

Slowly Jacob warmed to the task. By the grocery, he was whipping out my walker for me, and he carried it while I drove the motorized shopping cart. As he remarked, “You only hit one thing, Juju, and that wasn’t a hard hit.” I do wish stores would quit crowding their aisles with dumps. Somewhere in our travels, he said, “Last night when you asked me, I thought I didn’t want to do this. But it hasn’t been bad.” Be still my heart—from a twelve-year-old that’s as close as we can come to praise, but I told him it was called a left-handed compliment. He also said my car didn’t smell bad—he has for a long time said it smells of old leather, maybe because it’s an old car—and he did not say one word about my driving frightening him. I considered the whole outing a success.

This afternoon, the Burton family went to have their pictures taken for a Christmas card. For the first time I was asked to come along—they wanted me in some pictures. Flattering. As I told Christian, I even washed my hair. We took pictures at the shelter at the old site of Shakespeare in the Park—endless shots it seemed, and a long walk for me to and from the car. Then Christian walked me back to the car, where I sat and read while they did family pictures on the levee, with the downtown skyline as a backdrop. Then on to the duck pond where they did more pictures, and I read some more but watched with one eye.

All this photography involved lots of standing, often propping me against a wall or a post so the walker wouldn’t be in the picture—I did clutch Jordan a bit. And one wooden post had nails which caught at my sweater as I moved away. It was by then dusk and growing chilly. Jordan froze on the levee and at the deck pond, and even sitting in the car I was chilled. But it all had a nice family feel to it. I’m waiting for the pictures—hope I wasn’t squinting.

And so tonight I’m going to wrap a few Christmas presents. Don’t judge. I will see some of my family at Thanksgiving—only a week and a half away—and not again before Christmas, so I will have to deliver two families worth of modest gifts then.

Nope, it’s not too early to think about Christmas. As we walked through the super hardware store in our neighborhood shopping center, headed for the post office at the back, we passed all kinds of Christmas things, and Jacob said, “I can’t wait for Christmas.” If a twelve-year-old can admit that, so can I at eighty. Bring it!

The long walk north

I’ve been worrying about the Central American immigrants for some time. You’d think by now that word would have spread that we aren’t exactly putting out coffee and doughnuts for them. Indeed, they run the real risk of having their children taken from them and put in cages. Some will never see their children again. Some parents will be deported, without their children, and our government has done an unbelievably poor job of keeping records. They simply can’t match children to families. Some youngsters will be placed in adoptive homes, which I suspect is  illegal without parental consent. The parents themselves will be locked up for long periods in hardship conditions and in most cases ultimately sent back to their homeland. A long, difficult walk for nothing.

And still they come, which makes me wonder how bad conditions are in Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador. What is bad enough to make them risk the journey and the unpleasant reception at the end? We hear tales of murder and rape, starvation and poverty, but those ae only tales—until you see people desperate enough to undertake this uncertain journey.

I saw a clip this morning of trump talking about the immigrant caravan. He, who usually is harsh in his criticism of Mexico, praised that country for its efforts to stop the caravan. But what really caught my attention was his insistence that the people of the caravan are hardened criminals, “really bad guys.”

Sure they are—that’s why they carry their children in their arms and the few possessions on their backs.

No doubt there are some bad guys among the 4,000 people. But statistics I’ve read indicate that most immigrants want to live in peace, work hard, raise their families in safety. And to those who complain about the drain on our economy—think again. The immigrant population picks our crops, cleans our houses and hotels, keep our yards in shape.  In lesser numbers, they are also PhDs, faculty at universities, physicians who protect our health, businessmen who move our society ahead.

Then there’s that sticky issue of legal vs. illegal. Obtaining legal status in the U.S. is a lengthy, expensive, and uncertain process. Many would-be citizens do not have the money and are not allowed to stay here long enough to establish residence, etc. Probably, those “hardened criminals” enter illegally, but I wonder if the same desperation that drove them north doesn’t push some good people to try illegal entry.

We haven’t head as much in the last couple of months about ICE’s cruel and senseless deportation of family members who have lived here a long time, built a business, paid taxes, abided by the law, and been contributing members of society. I think each such case should be carefully considered with compassion rather than that instant deportation we’ve seen.

I have no solution. I wish I had the wisdom for one. We cannot absorb the numbers of people who want to come here—it’s physically and economically impossible. But we do need rational, compassionate immigration reform, done without racial prejudice or economic motives.

Meanwhile, perhaps trump should remember that folk saying: Never judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes. The last I heard though trump was threatening to deploy the full forces of the military. Where are you, General Mattis?