I get The Daily Skimm in my email every day. They ended the year with this clever and inclusive illustration of 2019, and I'm happy to share it here.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Monday, December 30, 2019
At least I was stuck in The Thompson Center
The Thompson Center is a controversial building here. Designed by Helmut Jahn, this State of Illinois office building is all glass and peach and aqua and red. I've always loved it, but there are many fellow citizens who hate it. It's fallen into disrepair, and estimates are that fixing the heat, the a/c, the mold and the leaks would be cost prohibitive. Rumor has it that it's going to be sold soon, and likely razed. I will miss it.
So today, I wasn't altogether unhappy that I was stuck there getting my Real ID card. I got to see the Christmas tree, the skylight and the big bear. I'm afraid I don't know the reason for the big bear, except that, to me, a bear was once a cub. What is a better reflection of The State of Illinois than the Chicago Cubs?
So today, I wasn't altogether unhappy that I was stuck there getting my Real ID card. I got to see the Christmas tree, the skylight and the big bear. I'm afraid I don't know the reason for the big bear, except that, to me, a bear was once a cub. What is a better reflection of The State of Illinois than the Chicago Cubs?
Worrisome postscript
Sunday afternoon, Henry had series of seizures and was airlifted to a hospital in Miami. It seems unreal to me. Here I am, not yet completely unpacked from my trip to visit him, and he's out of it, in a sterile hospital room in Mt. Sinai Medical Center.
Reg explained it all to me over the phone. Henry had a tempestuous phone call with his younger brother. The details aren't clear, but apparently Albert made Henry feel like a bad son, a bad brother, because Henry has made no plans to come home to Puerto Rico and see their ailing mother. Albert knows Henry can't fly because he's at risk for seizures; Reg believes Albert was just being cruel. The stress seems to have triggered the seizure series.
The doctors have led Reg to believe that these seizures will not cause Henry to lose any ground in his recovery, that they aren't unexpected in traumatic brain injury cases.
One step up, two steps back.
My poor, darling Henry.
Reg explained it all to me over the phone. Henry had a tempestuous phone call with his younger brother. The details aren't clear, but apparently Albert made Henry feel like a bad son, a bad brother, because Henry has made no plans to come home to Puerto Rico and see their ailing mother. Albert knows Henry can't fly because he's at risk for seizures; Reg believes Albert was just being cruel. The stress seems to have triggered the seizure series.
The doctors have led Reg to believe that these seizures will not cause Henry to lose any ground in his recovery, that they aren't unexpected in traumatic brain injury cases.
One step up, two steps back.
My poor, darling Henry.
A Bookish Merry Christmas
Then there are the books I received:
Life by Keith Richards and the Bob Dylan Chronicles from Reg and Henry. I'm not terribly enthusiastic about these, to be honest, but I can see myself reading them if my TBR pile gets too shallow.
The Hollywood Book Club is a charming little tome that shows everyone from Marilyn and James Dean to Gregory Peck and Ginger Rogers with their superstar noses in books. I got it from Patrick -- whom I just know gets me.
Then during the layover in Miami, i found myself in Hudson News, which was having a Buy 2/Get the Third Book FREE! sale. I got The Other Windsor Girl, a novel about Princess Margaret, The Big Fella, a biography of Babe Ruth, and No Judgements, a Meg Cabot book set in the Florida Keys.
I got home to find my Christmas gift from my oldest friend: Writers and Their Cats. It's a nice companion to The Hollywood Book Club!
Of course, now that I'm home, I won't be reading these books among the tropical flora.
Chrismas Getaway -- Day Four
Key lime martini @ Duffy's |
After lunch, Henry, Reg and I went to their house to exchange gifts. By now, Patrick was up and about. We four spent several lovely hours gabbing and giggling and it felt very festive.
Henry felt bad about Christmas Eve. He attempted to explain again, but I reassured him no explanation was necessary. We were together, it was Christmas, and that's all that matters.
Henry retired early, so Patrick and I split an Uber back into town. We spent another couple hours over perfectly adequate bar pizza and enjoyed ourselves. I really like him. He really likes me. He's Reg's friends, I'm Henry's, so it's like we're in-laws.
Then he went off to celebrate Christmas at The Island House, perhaps being naughty, just as likely not.
Christmas Getaway -- Day Three
Christmas Eve was a mixed bag. On the positive side, the weather
was ideal. Mid 70s and sunny and virtually without wind. It was too cool
to swim, but I managed to wiggle my pedicured toes in the pool and in the sand.
Henry and I were on our own. We had a seaside lunch at the southernmost resort in the contiguous United States. Really, we were closer to Havana than we were to Miami. I had the coconut shrimp with pasta salad, and he had a sandwich, which he only picked at. But he did manage to drink down two glasses of wine to my one drink.
All this alcohol, all these medications, and no food. This concerns me. So I reiterated that I have elevated blood sugar, that booze turns to sugar very quickly in the bloodstream, and I'd appreciate it if he didn't have any more wine in front of me.
"Then turn around," he snarled. Really, my darling Henry was angry at me. His defensiveness spoke volumes. Two glasses of wine in 90 minutes is plenty. Henry's liquor intake clouds his judgement and could be interfering with his recovery. When I ask him if he's been honest with his doctor about his drinking, all he says is, "Dr. Jackson knows I like my wine." That is not an answer to my question.
So things were tense on and off throughout the rest of the afternoon. We were doing last minute Christmas shopping. Henry was supposed to find something for Patrick, Reg's old friend and their houseguest. This assignment made him almost as unhappy as my curtailing his drinking. I already had a gift for Patrick -- a t-shirt from the TCM Film Festival -- but I saw things I think he'd appreciate. My favorite was a mug from The Tennessee Williams Museum gift shop that had a quote from Streetcar: "I don't want realism. I want magic!" Patrick drinks coffee, has enjoyed the museum, and is a self-proclaimed theater nerd. Yet Henry was dismissive.
He began complaining about one of their dogs. He said he never wanted to adopt the pair of dogs, and if it was up to him, he'd just open the door and let the male dog run away. What a horrible thing to say! I know he didn't mean this. To slightly change the subject, I told him I bet he was glad they had both dogs last spring, when his beloved Lola died. Otherwise, the girl dog would be alone and lonely.
"No," he said. "Lola was long gone before we got these two."
"No," I corrected. "Lola was alive last Christmas. I played with her."
"No," he insisted, "Lola has been dead for four years."
I realized now we were in Crazy Town. "You let Lola sleep wherever she wanted, because she wasn't feeling well. She chose a stack of pillows. You said it was her throne."
"I know what I know, Gal. She has been dead for four years."
"She died last spring, Henry. I'm not talking about this anymore."
To make matters worse, he got us lost. The shop he was absolutely certain was near the entrance to the cemetery was nowhere to be seen. He was getting angrier, and angrier.
Even though he still denies it, Henry is recovering from a traumatic brain injury. He is doing the best he can. I'm disturbed by his hostility, but I'm not hurt or angry. The situation is difficult, but it's the one we're in.
We got to church for Christmas Eve service and it was like a balm to his soul. The other congregants greeted him warmly and welcomed me. He sang the carols with gusto. I took communion. I continued to make an effort to get along with Phyllis, even though, ugh. Christmas spirit trumps ugh.
On the way back to my hotel, Henry got weepy and apologetic. He says he gets confused. I told him I know he does and I understand. He said is mind does not work like anyone else's, and he came close to admitting he has an injury. This one step up, two steps back dance is worth it if accepts his condition. If he's at peace with what happened, he'll be able to be a more active participant in his recovery.
In my room, I found that the staff had left me some goodies -- cupcakes and a bottle of wine.
I fell asleep watching Christmas movies, loving Henry, missing my late Uncle Ted (who made Christmases extra magical when I was a kid) and missing my cats. I thought about Jesus, of course. It was overwhelming. I slept soundly.
We got to church for Christmas Eve service and it was like a balm to his soul. The other congregants greeted him warmly and welcomed me. He sang the carols with gusto. I took communion. I continued to make an effort to get along with Phyllis, even though, ugh. Christmas spirit trumps ugh.
On the way back to my hotel, Henry got weepy and apologetic. He says he gets confused. I told him I know he does and I understand. He said is mind does not work like anyone else's, and he came close to admitting he has an injury. This one step up, two steps back dance is worth it if accepts his condition. If he's at peace with what happened, he'll be able to be a more active participant in his recovery.
In my room, I found that the staff had left me some goodies -- cupcakes and a bottle of wine.
Sorry about the angle; my hotel room was tiny & hard to photograph |
Christmas Getaway -- Day Two
Look close, there's a chick hiding under mom. |
The East Martello Museum was originally built as a fort during the Civil War. It went unused, and now it has lovely grounds with lush plants, metallic sculptures and a turn of the (last) century child's playhouse. That was one lucky little girl, and I love imagining what it would have been like to play in it.
Alas, the ground were all under water. To get an idea of how bad the the flooding was, that's a standard street safety cone peering out of the water.
We had a lovely late lunch by the ocean at the Half Shell Raw Bar. It's located at Key West's original seaport. I thought it was enchanting that their Christmas tree was constructed on lobster traps.
We had a good day. I wish Henry wouldn't drink so much. Two glasses of wine over lunch and then another with dinner is not necessary, especially not when with all the medication he's taking. But he's healthy and engaged and Reg is way more relaxed than he was last year.
And no Phyllis! Yea!
Christmas Getaway -- Day One
The trip got off to a promising start. Yes, O'Hare was crazy crowded. But I used curbside check in, where there was a very short line, and was able to go straight to security ... with TSA pre-check. Yea!
The United Terminal was decorated for Christmas with these massive lighted snowflakes. I admit I prefer the American Airlines Terminal, not only at the holidays but all year around. But I was in good spirits because I'd managed to get an affordable seat on one of the few non-stop flights from Chicago to Key West.
Alas, the flight was not a smooth one. The corridor between Miami and Key West was rainy. I don't know what the final total was, but I believe about 15" of rain fell in a 24-hour period. Our flight was an hour late, as the pilot tried to avoid the center of the storm. I admit I was very frightened as we bounced around in our seats.
When you disembark your flight at EYW, you have to wait for an a staircase to come up to your plane. You climb down and then traverse the black top to the airport -- all outdoors. It was so rainy and wet that my jeans were soaked through.
I was happy to see Reg and Henry. They seemed to be getting alone and Henry was alert and engaged. They dropped me off at my hotel with plans to pick me up in a few hours for Henry's birthday dinner.
When the rain finally stopped, I wandered around the neighborhood a little to confirm that the weather had been as intense as I'd suspected. Here's the view of the ocean just blocks from my room.
The breakwater is supposed to keep this side of the road dry. But it didn't stand a chance against Sunday's rain and wind.
Then I decorated my room for Christmas. It helps me get into the spirit.
Then four of us -- me, Henry, Reg and Phyllis -- celebrated Henry's birthday at Cafe Sole. I am never happy to see Phyllis. At 70, she drinks and tokes like a teenager on spring break. However, she is Henry's closest friend as well as his publisher* and it was his birthday, so I acquiesced. She did give Reg a check to cash and cover the cost of her dinner, which I appreciated. I mean, I don't like her and didn't invite her and it was the first night of my trip, so ...
I went to sleep feeling hopeful that we'd all have a Merry Christmas.
*Hers is a subsidy publisher, which means she facilitates Henry in self-publishing his books.
The United Terminal was decorated for Christmas with these massive lighted snowflakes. I admit I prefer the American Airlines Terminal, not only at the holidays but all year around. But I was in good spirits because I'd managed to get an affordable seat on one of the few non-stop flights from Chicago to Key West.
Alas, the flight was not a smooth one. The corridor between Miami and Key West was rainy. I don't know what the final total was, but I believe about 15" of rain fell in a 24-hour period. Our flight was an hour late, as the pilot tried to avoid the center of the storm. I admit I was very frightened as we bounced around in our seats.
When you disembark your flight at EYW, you have to wait for an a staircase to come up to your plane. You climb down and then traverse the black top to the airport -- all outdoors. It was so rainy and wet that my jeans were soaked through.
I was happy to see Reg and Henry. They seemed to be getting alone and Henry was alert and engaged. They dropped me off at my hotel with plans to pick me up in a few hours for Henry's birthday dinner.
The breakwater is supposed to keep this side of the road dry. But it didn't stand a chance against Sunday's rain and wind.
Then I decorated my room for Christmas. It helps me get into the spirit.
Then four of us -- me, Henry, Reg and Phyllis -- celebrated Henry's birthday at Cafe Sole. I am never happy to see Phyllis. At 70, she drinks and tokes like a teenager on spring break. However, she is Henry's closest friend as well as his publisher* and it was his birthday, so I acquiesced. She did give Reg a check to cash and cover the cost of her dinner, which I appreciated. I mean, I don't like her and didn't invite her and it was the first night of my trip, so ...
I went to sleep feeling hopeful that we'd all have a Merry Christmas.
*Hers is a subsidy publisher, which means she facilitates Henry in self-publishing his books.
Sunday, December 29, 2019
Family Christmas
I celebrated the holiday on 12/21 in a bar in my old hometown. My niece and her fiance drove down from their home in Michigan, They dumped their bags at my sister's, grabbed my nephew and got us a table.
It was more harried than we would have liked. For my niece had hoped to leave early Saturday morning and enjoy a leisurely drive and some time with her parents before meeting me at the bar that evening. But, as the saying goes, we plan and God laughs.
For Friday evening, her fiance's brother was admitted to the hospital. His condition wasn't serious but it was upsetting and embarrassing: an abscess on his boy parts* had to be drained. The hospital kept him overnight for observation and to help prevent infection. My niece and her fiance didn't want to leave until he had been released from the hospital. I get that. My niece is part of that family now, too.
So now it's Saturday afternoon. My niece and her fella get into the car with their luggage and the gifts and they're ready to go. Yea! She puts her hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 and discovers the stone from her beautiful engagement ring is missing.
Gone.
She freaked out. They searched the car. They retraced their steps, checking the grass and the driveway. She unfolded/refolded the laundry in the basket and then checked the washer and dryer. And the floor around/between the washer and dryer.
Gone.
They have lost another hour, and my niece has lost a great deal of her Christmas spirit. Fortunately, her fiance had the ring insured. As she drove, he contacted the jeweler and the insurance company. They stopped at the jewelry store before getting on the expressway. She got a replacement band and a promise that her original ring would be good as new with a replacement stone by February 3. She was happy and her fiance was feeling very proud of the way he'd taken care of the situation.
They didn't hit town until Saturday evening. Still, it was a nice visit. I got my niece and her intended a cordless wine bottle opener and a bottle of red, a bottle of white. (Being millennials, they don't get the Billy Joel reference.) They got me fancy Christmas socks and a pedicure set. Oh, and Christmas cookies! My niece bakes very well.
I gave my nephew a strange collection of goodies:
• A DVD of the first season of The West Wing. He wants to go into politics, and I thought this view of a functioning/fictional White House would appeal to him.
• A t-shirt from The Anthony Rizzo Family Foundation, because, well, Rizz.
• A little felt stocking filled with quarters. He has to do laundry in the dorm, you know.
He gave me a Cubs blanket and a bottle of catnip bubbles. My cats are completely uninterested in the bubbles, but it's the thought that counts.
Our visit was merry and fun, but tiring. They'd had a long-ass day, and I had to get up early for my morning flight to Key West.
*I really don't know more than this, as my niece's boyfriend didn't wish to go into more detail about his brother's reproductive organs.
It was more harried than we would have liked. For my niece had hoped to leave early Saturday morning and enjoy a leisurely drive and some time with her parents before meeting me at the bar that evening. But, as the saying goes, we plan and God laughs.
For Friday evening, her fiance's brother was admitted to the hospital. His condition wasn't serious but it was upsetting and embarrassing: an abscess on his boy parts* had to be drained. The hospital kept him overnight for observation and to help prevent infection. My niece and her fiance didn't want to leave until he had been released from the hospital. I get that. My niece is part of that family now, too.
So now it's Saturday afternoon. My niece and her fella get into the car with their luggage and the gifts and they're ready to go. Yea! She puts her hands on the wheel at 10 and 2 and discovers the stone from her beautiful engagement ring is missing.
Gone.
She freaked out. They searched the car. They retraced their steps, checking the grass and the driveway. She unfolded/refolded the laundry in the basket and then checked the washer and dryer. And the floor around/between the washer and dryer.
Gone.
They have lost another hour, and my niece has lost a great deal of her Christmas spirit. Fortunately, her fiance had the ring insured. As she drove, he contacted the jeweler and the insurance company. They stopped at the jewelry store before getting on the expressway. She got a replacement band and a promise that her original ring would be good as new with a replacement stone by February 3. She was happy and her fiance was feeling very proud of the way he'd taken care of the situation.
They didn't hit town until Saturday evening. Still, it was a nice visit. I got my niece and her intended a cordless wine bottle opener and a bottle of red, a bottle of white. (Being millennials, they don't get the Billy Joel reference.) They got me fancy Christmas socks and a pedicure set. Oh, and Christmas cookies! My niece bakes very well.
I gave my nephew a strange collection of goodies:
• A DVD of the first season of The West Wing. He wants to go into politics, and I thought this view of a functioning/fictional White House would appeal to him.
• A t-shirt from The Anthony Rizzo Family Foundation, because, well, Rizz.
• A little felt stocking filled with quarters. He has to do laundry in the dorm, you know.
He gave me a Cubs blanket and a bottle of catnip bubbles. My cats are completely uninterested in the bubbles, but it's the thought that counts.
Our visit was merry and fun, but tiring. They'd had a long-ass day, and I had to get up early for my morning flight to Key West.
*I really don't know more than this, as my niece's boyfriend didn't wish to go into more detail about his brother's reproductive organs.
Saturday, December 28, 2019
Saturday 9
Saturday 9: Cold as Ice (1977)
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
Our last Saturday 9 of 2019. Thank you for another great year, everyone!
1) Look back on 2019 and share a happy moment. That day back in January when the chiropractor diagnosed me with spinal stenosis. No, I'm not happy to have damage to my back. Of course not. But I was delighted to learn it had a name, and to have a treatment plan. Those stabbing pains had been so sudden, so disruptive and so frightening. Receiving the diagnosis was the beginning of the end to that scary saga.
2) As 2019 ends, are you making any New Year's resolutions for 2020? I'm going to move more. It will be good for my back and good for my elevated blood sugar. One of my coworkers joined the gym, and hopefully we will hold one another accountable.
3) Tell us about an obstacle or challenge you faced in 2019. Being on the condo board this year has been fraught with stress and tension and responsibility. Deconversion ... special assessments ... clashes with the other board member, Brian ...
4) Is it "cold as ice" outside where you are today? No! It's been unseasonably warm this December.
5) Foreigner is this week's featured artist. The band formed in New York City. If you were to travel to New York City, what would you be sure to see? I'd love to take a Jackie tour of New York, to see all the spots I've always read about her visiting: 1040 Fifth Avenue (her home), The Russian Tea Room (her favorite lunch spot), Grand Central Station (which she helped save from the wrecking ball) and The Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in Central Park (where she used to jog). If I had time, I'd even swing by Gristede's, her grocery store.
Read about her efforts here |
6) The band went by the name Trigger. They changed it because their prospective record label was already auditioning a different group named Trigger. They settled on Foreigner because half the members were foreign -- from England. If you received a free, round-trip airline ticket to any foreign country, where would you go? England. Or maybe Australia.
7) In 1977, when this song was popular, Star Wars was breaking all box office records. The Spy Who Loved Me, a James Bond movie, was also a 1977 hit. Which film series do you prefer: Star Wars or James Bond? James Bond.
8) In 1977, Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak incorporated Apple. Are you answering these 9 questions on an Apple product (PC, laptop, pad or phone)? Apple MacBook Pro.
9) Random question: What was the last thing you thought of as you dozed off last night? Winona Ryder. I just saw the new version of Little Women, and I decided that I liked Ryder's1994 version better.
Friday, December 20, 2019
Saturday 9
Saturday 9: Happy Holidays! (from the archives)
1. Sam loved giving her annual wish list to Santa. Yet some children are reluctant to climb into Jolly Old St. Nick's lap. Did you enjoy the tradition or were you shy? Or did you by pass it altogether -- either because you wrote him a letter or because your family didn't celebrate Christmas? I would have preferred to write a letter. I felt I could have been far more specific for Santa by copying out page numbers from the Sears Christmas Catalog. But my mom got a kick out of seeing us with Santa, so that's what we did.
1. Sam loved giving her annual wish list to Santa. Yet some children are reluctant to climb into Jolly Old St. Nick's lap. Did you enjoy the tradition or were you shy? Or did you by pass it altogether -- either because you wrote him a letter or because your family didn't celebrate Christmas? I would have preferred to write a letter. I felt I could have been far more specific for Santa by copying out page numbers from the Sears Christmas Catalog. But my mom got a kick out of seeing us with Santa, so that's what we did.
2. Are you currently on the Naughty or Nice list? How did you get there? I'd put me on the Nice list. I've worked at being a better person -- in classic film vernacular, I strive to be more Melanie and less Scarlett. I've done some good work for my client and been a good friend. Yes, Santa, label me Nice!
3. Did you ship any gifts to friends and family this year? If so, which one traveled the farthest? Speaking of classic movies, I sent a copy of the shooting script of The Godfather to my oldest friend in Hesperia, CA. I picked it up last April while at the TCM Classic Film Festival in Hollywood. It came home with me on the plane (1,740 miles) and then I mailed it back about 1,940 miles to Hesperia, courtesy of the USPS.
4. Did you buy yourself a gift this year? This past Tuesday, I bought myself a book and took myself to lunch. It was pricey, but I enjoyed it.
5. What's your favorite holiday-themed movie? Have you seen it yet this year? My favorite is Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. I watched it on YouTube.
6. Thinking of movies, Christmas is lucrative for Hollywood. Have you ever gone to a movie theater on Christmas Day? No.
7. Have you ever suffered an embarrassing moment at the company Christmas party? It wasn't the Christmas party, but it was a work function and I'd prefer not to speak of it. Thirty years later and my cheeks still get hot.
8. What's your favorite beverage in cold weather? Bailey's Irish Creme.
9. Share a memory from last Christmas. Last year, was an intense Christmas. Henry was newly home from the hospital after his life threatening, October 2018 accident. I was thrilled to see him alive, and grateful that we could be together, but he really wasn't well yet. I'm looking forward to a merrier and more chill Christmas, as his condition has improved.
Enjoy your holidays, Everyone!
Settling in to watch
My DVR is whirring right now. I'm recording The I Love Lucy Christmas Special, which I will watch after I finish my laundry.
Purist that I am, I normally don't like colorization. But this is special. Ricky looks more handsome. Lucy's eyes are so very blue. And Santa suits are just better in red!
We are better than him
Some days, Donald Trump exhausts me and breaks my heart. He is routinely cruel, bullying people day in and day out. He lies all the time, about everyone from Barack Obama to Ted Cruz. He is completely transactional and devoid of empathy. (Just recall his comments about our neighbors in Puerto Rico after the hurricane.)
And yet this vain and vulgar man, this man who never apologizes, who insists he has never asked God's forgiveness, is the darling of evangelicals.
It's enough to make this old Christian gal cry.
I believe in signs. I believe God reaches out to me in the way I'll best understand. And today, on my day off, He did.
Doing errands on this unseasonably warm day, with Christmas carols playing in my headphones, I walked up a different street than usual. I was so happy to see the nativity on the lawn of the Catholic church that I crossed the street to get a closer look. I just wanted to be nearer to it.
Then I saw the sign.
"Immigrants & Refugees Welcome Here."
YES! Mary and Joseph were immigrants. There was no room for them at the inn, so she had to give birth in a manger. Oh, I'm sure Donald Trump would try to keep them out with a wall, maybe cruelly separate the baby from His parents. But we celebrate them. We honor them. And we continue to welcome immigrants and refugees in His name.
Donald Trump doesn't really represent us. We're better than him.
My heart took off.
The Book of Matthew tells us: Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.
Yes.
I wish we had a President who inspired rather than incited. And hopefully come January 2021, we will.
But for now, it's up to us to rise above our President. We can. We will. I know it.
All it takes is love.
And yet this vain and vulgar man, this man who never apologizes, who insists he has never asked God's forgiveness, is the darling of evangelicals.
It's enough to make this old Christian gal cry.
I believe in signs. I believe God reaches out to me in the way I'll best understand. And today, on my day off, He did.
Doing errands on this unseasonably warm day, with Christmas carols playing in my headphones, I walked up a different street than usual. I was so happy to see the nativity on the lawn of the Catholic church that I crossed the street to get a closer look. I just wanted to be nearer to it.
Then I saw the sign.
"Immigrants & Refugees Welcome Here."
YES! Mary and Joseph were immigrants. There was no room for them at the inn, so she had to give birth in a manger. Oh, I'm sure Donald Trump would try to keep them out with a wall, maybe cruelly separate the baby from His parents. But we celebrate them. We honor them. And we continue to welcome immigrants and refugees in His name.
Donald Trump doesn't really represent us. We're better than him.
My heart took off.
The Book of Matthew tells us: Whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.
Yes.
I wish we had a President who inspired rather than incited. And hopefully come January 2021, we will.
But for now, it's up to us to rise above our President. We can. We will. I know it.
All it takes is love.
Thursday, December 19, 2019
Impeachment
So today Donald J. Trump was impeached. It is sad, serious and overwhelming.
I'm an adult. It's my job to follow this stuff, isn't it? So I started my day off tuned to the debate on the floor. After a while, though, I felt all my energy slipping away.
Not a single Republican did what needed to be done. What's more, Rep. Barry Loudermilk (R-GA) compared Trump to Christ.
“Before you take this historic vote today, one week before Christmas, keep this in mind: When Jesus was falsely accused of treason, Pontius Pilate gave Jesus the opportunity to face his accusers. During that sham trial, Pontius Pilate afforded more rights to Jesus than Democrats afforded this president in this process."
How disgusting is that? Christ did not abuse his power. Christ bribed no one. (Oh yeah, and Christ didn't have five children by three wives, and his attorney never went to prison after paying off a porn star.)
And whatever happened to the separation of Church and State? When will these RWNJs show requisite respect for our form of government, and for my faith, and keep Christianity out of their mouths while talking about #45, who has never sought forgiveness for his sins.
So I switched to Magnum PI. I have a few episodes on my DVR and plowed through two of them. Tom Selleck can be very funny. I wish he did more comedy. If you see him, please share my observation.
Then it was time for my holiday pedi. I got Jenna, the nail tech who is bubbly and positive. Her ten-year-old daughter still believes in Santa and has asked for science stuff for home experiments. I could tell that Jenna was proud that her girl enjoys school and STEM.
I walked my Optimistically painted nails over to the corner bar just a couple doors down from the salon. I had a gift card in my wallet -- a birthday present from Snarkypants, and she had specified that I use it for lunch. So I took a booth in the back and had a massive bowl of clam chowder and a nice glass of Bailey's Irish Creme, neat.
They had the impeachment debate on, but with no sound. So six hours later, it was still going on.
I got home, I took a nap. I woke up, and the President of the United States had been impeached.
So it's done. The first POTUS ever to be accused of high crimes and misdemeanors during his first term.
Life goes on. It's surreal.
I'm an adult. It's my job to follow this stuff, isn't it? So I started my day off tuned to the debate on the floor. After a while, though, I felt all my energy slipping away.
Not a single Republican did what needed to be done. What's more, Rep. Barry Loudermilk (R-GA) compared Trump to Christ.
“Before you take this historic vote today, one week before Christmas, keep this in mind: When Jesus was falsely accused of treason, Pontius Pilate gave Jesus the opportunity to face his accusers. During that sham trial, Pontius Pilate afforded more rights to Jesus than Democrats afforded this president in this process."
How disgusting is that? Christ did not abuse his power. Christ bribed no one. (Oh yeah, and Christ didn't have five children by three wives, and his attorney never went to prison after paying off a porn star.)
And whatever happened to the separation of Church and State? When will these RWNJs show requisite respect for our form of government, and for my faith, and keep Christianity out of their mouths while talking about #45, who has never sought forgiveness for his sins.
Then it was time for my holiday pedi. I got Jenna, the nail tech who is bubbly and positive. Her ten-year-old daughter still believes in Santa and has asked for science stuff for home experiments. I could tell that Jenna was proud that her girl enjoys school and STEM.
Revlon Optimistic |
They had the impeachment debate on, but with no sound. So six hours later, it was still going on.
I got home, I took a nap. I woke up, and the President of the United States had been impeached.
So it's done. The first POTUS ever to be accused of high crimes and misdemeanors during his first term.
Life goes on. It's surreal.
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
WWW.WEDNESDAY
WWW.
WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To
participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here.
1. What are you currently reading? Cary Grant by Marc Elliott. I have never seen a Cary Grant performance that I didn't enjoy. And yet, when I list my favorite classic film stars, I forget to include him. I think it's because there's a distance, an aloofness, that Cary Grant maintained that just wasn't there with Henry Fonda or James Stewart.
I'm hoping that this biography by Marc Elliot will help explain that. I know we're not supposed judge a book by its cover, but I love the portrait on the cover. There's the impeccable Mr. Grant, black tie and not a hair out of place, sitting criss cross, and making the incongruity elegant. Perhaps it's those warring sides of his personality -- the charm and the cheek -- that are the secret of his appeal and mystique.
2. What did you recently finish reading? Still Life by Louise Penny. I'd like to stay at the B&B in Three Pines. A room there sounds like a comforting and comfortable place to unwind after exploring the village. I know that the books are promoted as "The Chief Inspector Gamache series," but after reading this first one, I think Three Pines is the star.
I enjoyed this book a great deal and, in fact, almost loved it. Ms. Penny creates unique characters without condescending to them. The crime that shocks Three Pines feels organic, as if it almost had to happen in that town. And Gamache is wise, warm and imperfect. I love his quote: "They are four sentences we learn to say and mean: I don't know; I need help; I'm sorry; I was wrong."
The penultimate scene in the book bugged me, though. Once it was revealed who the murderer was, I needed the "why" and "how." I'd convicted the wrong person, and wanted to get to the denouement. Instead there's some derring-do that felt out of place for the characters and it distracted me.
Still, I'm glad I met this series and will certainly revisit Three Pines.
"Because you like cats and words"
We met at a local restaurant that is closing at the end of the month, after a 30 year run. Nancy's husband joined us to say goodbye. It makes her happy that he and I get along.
It was a lovely evening, a fitting farewell to an old favorite restaurant, and another opportunity to wear my Cubs Christmas sweater.
I feel valued. It's a nice Christmas-y feeling!
Monday, December 16, 2019
A tourist in my own town
After my doctor's appointment, I went to Macy's. On State Street. At Christmastime. Just like every tourist who comes to Chicago in December.
Because I'm on vacation, I had time to enjoy it. And I did. I really noticed the decorations. I had fun checking out the windows, and snapping photos of a family who had traveled from downstate, just to see them.
Oh yeah, and I bought three pair of blue socks and a tiny box of Frango mints.
Christmas! I'm feeling it!
Because I'm on vacation, I had time to enjoy it. And I did. I really noticed the decorations. I had fun checking out the windows, and snapping photos of a family who had traveled from downstate, just to see them.
Oh yeah, and I bought three pair of blue socks and a tiny box of Frango mints.
Christmas! I'm feeling it!
When Barack met Michelle
I walk past this building every time I go to the chiropractor. It's the home of the Sidley Austin law firm.
In 1989, lawyer Michelle Robinson met a promising summer intern named Barack Obama. Here.
When I go to Springfield, I see a plaque on the site of Globe Tavern, where Abe Lincoln and Mary spent their honeymoon.
In Georgetown, Martin's Tavern has a plaque where JFK proposed to Jackie.
I wonder if, someday, this building won't be recognized for its historic significance.
Right here. In my town. How cool is that!
In 1989, lawyer Michelle Robinson met a promising summer intern named Barack Obama. Here.
When I go to Springfield, I see a plaque on the site of Globe Tavern, where Abe Lincoln and Mary spent their honeymoon.
In Georgetown, Martin's Tavern has a plaque where JFK proposed to Jackie.
I wonder if, someday, this building won't be recognized for its historic significance.
Right here. In my town. How cool is that!