I seem to have
lost my ambition somewhere. If you find it, please return. I’m supposed to be
doing a final edit on a manuscript. My accomplishment so far today? One
chapter.
Instead, like many
Americans, I spent the morning glued to the TV and James Comey’s testimony
before the Senate Intelligence Committee. At first, it was for me a chicken and
the egg situation—which came first. I wasn’t sure if I watched because I didn’t
want to work, or I didn’t want to work because I wanted to watch what turned
out to be a significant even in American political history. Once I watched, I
was mesmerized, mostly by Comey’s performance.
He was calm,
professional, unemotional, a consummate picture of integrity. If he didn’t know
the answer, he said so; if he felt it was sensitive, he said he couldn’t answer
in open forum; occasionally, he said, “That’s a good question.” He admitted to
being stunned by Trump’s suggestion he quash the investigation of Mike Flynn,
and he seemed equally at a loss to respond to Trump’s demand for loyalty. He
simply replied that he would always give the president honesty. He was
knowledgeable and prepared. The naysayers have already begun with accusations
and slanders, but I think he’s strong and will hold firm.
I turned off the
hearing with a couple of other heroes, so far pretty much unsung. One is Angus
King, independent from Maine who injected a lot of common sense and a bit of
both humor and literary knowledge into the hearings. And Kamala Harris, senator
from California who is like a dog with a bone in its teeth. Being chastised in
her questioning of a witness yesterday by an old white man didn’t slow her down
a bit. She focused her questions today on Jeff Session, questions she knew
Comey couldn’t answer in a public forum, but now they’re out there in the
public mind. I suspect Sessions is toast—and I’m not weeping.
Several
Republicans looked like blithering idiots. One critic said Tom Cotton kept
asking questions that exploded in his face, but Cotton has never acquitted
himself well publicly, and I fail to understand how he’s been elected. It was
sad though to listen to John McCain stumble through nonsensical questions. I
had great policy differences with McCain but always admired him as a man and a
war hero. I think it’s time for him to gracefully retire.
And then there’s
John Cornyn, Texas’ pride and joy, who kept asking questions about the Clintons.
Excuse me, but what were the hearings about? Dirty, underhanded politics and
public relations, Johnny boy. I got to thinking about him—he’s hitched his star
to a falling wagon, the Republican party, and he remains loyal to the party
line to the point that he apparently hasn’t an independent thought in his
brain. Sure, he’s a senior senator with some clout, but, an ambitious man, he’s
going nowhere else. It’s way too late to leave the Republicans. So there he is,
being dragged down with them. Couldn’t happen to a nicer fellow.
And that pretty
much was my day—interesting, stimulating, even reassuring. I felt today that
the good guys will win though Lord knows opinions on social media are all over
the place.
Took a break and
cooked myself a good dinner—sautéed zucchini, chicken slices with a sour
cream/blue cheese sauce, and wilted lettuce. Okay, I burned the bacon for the lettuce
and it didn’t leave enough grease so I had to augment with olive oil. Not my
finest effort—the other day when I did that salad for Jordan I got it just
perfect. Now I’ve used up all the home-grown lettuce until fall.
Anticipating more
cooking this weekend.
