About The Birthday Boy

In trying not to freak out about this week's travels, I'm concentrating on the destination. I like saying I'm spending Christmas in the Keys because it's true and I like the alliteration. But I'm really arriving on the 22nd so I can celebrate Henry's birthday with him.

We'll be having dinner at Sarabeth's, one of his favorite spots. We had dinner that together last year on Christmas Eve, but I was already starting to get sick and remember little of the cuisine. At that point we didn't know how ill I really was, and Henry felt bad that I didn't love the restaurant he chose. This year I'm celebrating him by showing him it was my gut, not the menu, that had me so meh about this local gem he wanted to share with me.

Dinner's gonna be expensive, so his gift itself can't be. But that doesn't mean it wasn't carefully considered. I'm wrapping a set of Kikkerland Flasher Bike Lights for him. There's a steady pale light for his handlebars and a flashing red one to attach to his seat, facing behind him. These lights are tiny and will be easy to slip into his ubiquitous backpack. He rides all the time, and when his regular lights go out, he can slip these on and still pedal safely.

I don't want to go!

To Key West for Christmas.

Instead, I wish it was December 27. Then I'd be safe at home, rubbing my sunburn/mosquito bite and looking back on what a good time I had.

I dread flying. I really do. My flight is at dawn and what if I sleep through all three (3!) alarms that I shall set and the automated phone call?

What if, when I get to O'Hare, the endless TSA waitlines have suddenly reappeared and I miss my flight? Yes, today the line at Delta gates are only 11-20 minutes. But I'm not flying today, am I?

Then, since I cannot fly directly to Key West, I have to deal with TWO take offs and TWO landings. That's when there's the greatest chance of incident, you know. And I'll be flying over water. With sharks and gators. Oh, my!

When I get there, I know that my friend Henry will want to complain talk about Trump. I really cannot do much more of this without screaming. The man hasn't even taken the oath of office yet and has already been chosen the Worst of All Time. I simply cannot spend four years being depressed and bitching about the President. Talk to me about issues -- how you're supporting women's or LGBT rights. Tell me what you're doing in your community to mobilize and protect your town from possibly regressive environmental and civil rights policies. But don't quote hysterical online articles and MSNBC hosts. I have the internet and cable, Henry. I KNOW!

You know what else I can't do? Worry unendingly between now and Thursday 3:00 AM -- when this adventure starts. It's only Tuesday! I know I'm on a fast-track to stress-induced diarrhea at this rate.

So today I'm going to treat myself to a nice big lunch at George's, a neighborhood mainstay. I'm going to read my Agatha Christie mystery -- set in the 1930s, so no mention of flights over water. I may do some housework. I'll definitely squeeze a little more into that last Goodwill bag of 2016.

And I'll concentrate on this. My view of EYW, with those dear, dorky Seward Johnson sculptures glistening in the afternoon sun. And Henry on the other side of those glass doors, waiting to welcome me and begin celebrating his birthday and Christmas.

I can't. I won't. It does no good.

This is at least the sixth time I've posted this photo on my blog. I have said over and over and over that I'm hurt and disgusted by the way this man mocked a disabled reporter at a rally. I've also said that Hillary Clinton is right -- anyone who applauds such behavior is indeed "deplorable."

But that doesn't mean that the United States is filled with nearly 63,000,000 voters who think this was OK. They just didn't think it was disqualifying.

Likewise, I don't believe that each of the nearly 63,000,000 voters who chose Trump over Clinton are misogynistic, racist and xenophobic. I can't believe that. I refuse to believe it.

Latinos voted for Trump. Are they racist xenophobes? Women voted for Trump. Are they misogynists? Of course not. There has to be something else going on here.

My doctor -- a smart woman -- believes many votes were swayed by "kitchen table issues," specifically an economy that has felt stagnant to many middle-class working whites. She doesn't think it's an accident that Obamacare and open enrollment took place concurrently with early voting.

Joe Biden, certainly no racist/xenophobe, feels that the Democratic Party forgot middle-class working whites. I can see where they may have felt alienated and misunderstood by their choices on the blue side of the ballot: the establishment elite and the self-proclaimed socialist. I admit I was sorry that Hillary and Bernie were my only two choices. Though I found nothing disqualifying about either of them, and because I'm a party girl who believes the Democratic Party is about inclusion, I knew I would support whoever my party nominated. But neither of them stirred my soul and I really wished my party had a deeper bench.

At any rate, I cannot get up each morning with the conviction that 63,000,000 of my fellow Americans are bad. It's not true. And besides, it does no good.

We have to learn to talk to each other -- to listen to each other -- without judgement. We have to remember what Barack Obama said back in 2004, that what unites us is greater than what divides us. We have to figure out how to move forward in a productive way.

So I'm sick of all the apocalyptic social media droning and whining. We don't have to have social unrest and riots. It is not our destiny. We can change it. By reaching out and trying to make things better. By trying to understand.

One of these things is not like the others

For those of us in Illinois, the election of Donald Trump is very confusing. Two minutes after the polls closed, our state was called for Hillary Clinton. It wasn't even close. It never was.

Yet all our neighbors went red this time. What's up with that?

I had assumed it was because the Dems always have a good and dependable ground game. We all know when/where we can vote. We all know how to get a ride to the polls if we can't get there on our own. Also, Chicagoans of color are accustomed to making themselves heard at the ballot box -- especially this year, when police shootings have made Laquan McDonald and Paul O'Neal household names.

But my friend Kathleen has an interesting theory: We voted Clinton because we know Bruce Rauner. A billionaire businessman,* Rauner ran in 2014 with the slogan: Bring Back Illinois. He claimed that with all the corruption and "business as usual" in Springfield, we needed to shake things up with an outsider. Does any of this sound familiar, America?

Gov. Rauner is completing his second year in office, and so far, it's been a disaster. He simply cannot work with the State Legislature. Currently Illinois has no budget, in large part because Rauner has tied just about every line item to term limits. So because of his political fetish, our lottery winners aren't being paid, pensions aren't being funded and now homeless shelters will be closing.

Rauner's approval rating hovers at 30%-35%.

Bruce Rauner refused to speak Donald Trump's name during the run-up to the election, and I don't mean to link him to Trump's more incendiary and insensitive rhetoric. That wouldn't be fair.

But Kathleen could be right: Perhaps our up-close and personal view of a successful businessman with no legislative experience could have made us less likely to take a chance on Trump.

*Although Rauner actually is a billionaire. He was very open about his personal finances. I suspect Trump is worth considerably less than he wants us to believe.

Sunday Stealing

Sunday Stealing: The Here-to-Serve 16 Questions 

1. Which is worse? Being gossiped about or being lied to? Lied to. I'm old enough that being gossiped about rather amuses me. At this very job, I've somehow gone from she-who-sleeps-with-other-women's-men to lesbian. I wish the real me got as much as the gossiped about one does.

2. What is your favorite "Starbucks" drink? Or if you have better taste, Dunkin’Donuts? I don't drink coffee.

3. Name an embarrassing moment (Make it good). Using my office phone -- a landline -- I was on hold. Listening to a peppy muzak version of "We Are Family." Out of boredom, I began chair dancing. Rather enthusiastically. There may have been tuneless singing involved. The chord got tangled around the chair. When the customer service rep suddenly came on, I tried to spin around in my chair and the whole thing -- chair, me and big, black deskphone -- tumbled to the floor with a resounding thud. Much to the amusement of my coworkers. It was so humiliating that it must qualify as "good."

4. Is it hard for you to ask someone to forgive you when you have wronged them? Yes. Though it feels better after I do.

5. Who do you wish you could meet? Lisa Marie Presley. Let's see, what could we talk about? Elvis, Michael Jackson, Nicholas Cage, Scientology, OJ Simpson, her own career ... I visited Graceland recently and was impressed by someone's business acumen as evidenced by the way it's expanding. I mean, The King has now been gone almost as long as he was alive, and the place is still a spinning turnstyle, making money from a variety of demographics. Is she the savvy marketer behind it? Her daughter, Riley Keough, is a very busy actress. What was it like to watch her eldest enter the family business? For someone who has been famous literally since birth, and who has lived one hell of a life, Lisa Marie is actually rather mysterious. 

 

6. Best food comes from which country? Italy.

7. Do you like small talk, or deep conversations? I am pathetic at small talk. 

8. Who do you most want to encourage this year? My nephew.

9. If those who know you best gave you one piece of advice, what would they

say? Would they be right? What will you do about it? My doctor wants me to lose weight. She is right. Excess pounds could be behind my ongoing fatigue issue. Of course, if you're tired all the time, it's hard to get motivated and to the gym, so it's a circular problem. Oh well! Someone (Tennessee Williams?) once said we're all virgins in the morning. That's how I feel about January 1. The Massive Reset Button is hit and we start anew and I'll work on my weight/exercise/health.

10. How often do you get real sick? I got "real sick" a year ago next week and it lasted for months and months. The condition was C. diff. The day in/day out of it was exhausting and depressing. I hope to never be that sick, that long, ever again. The changes mandated in my diet made me healthier over the long haul, though, so I suppose there's always a pony somewhere.

11. Are you a person who has a whole lot of acquaintances, or just a few very close friends? I'm blessed with good, close friends.

12. If you could cure a disease, or heal a sickness, which one would you choose? Dementia. I get that we all have to die sometime. But dementia robs people of their dignity at the end and makes the loss even harder on those they leave behind.
 

13. What was your favorite book of 2016? 

What a ride this was!

14. What was one of your biggest accomplishments in 2016? Getting the fuck through it. What an awful year this was! I actually dealt with three of the Four Horsemen. The only one missing was War. (BTW, War, you were not missed.)

15. If you could be guaranteed a spot on the reality show "Survivor", would you go? I've only ever seen one episode of Survivor and I barely remember it, so I have nothing intelligent to say.

16. Which is worse? Shopping for jeans or a bathing suit? BATHING SUIT!!!!!

17. How old was your oldest living relative (still living or in the past)? My great grandmother lived to be over 100. She was in a home, and as a wee one it was quite the event to be dressed up and dragged over there. As her health faded, we visited her less and less. In retrospect, I wish I had gotten to know her.

I did nothing today

I feel guilty about my nothingness, since I rescheduled this morning's hair appointment because of a storm that didn't quite materialize as predicted. I know this puts undue stress on my stylist, who is squeezing me instead on Wednesday at 5:00 -- which is his own time. But truly, TV's "storm trackers" warned us over and over about freezing rain and black ice and I thought, "Fuck this. I'm on vacation next week! I don't have to [get my hair cut, go to the post office, pick up prescription kibble at the vet] on Saturday morning!"

And so I didn't. I slept in. I binged on Will and Grace reruns. I had a massive brunch -- cinnamon apple crepes with a side of bacon. I watched the village kids line up to ride in one of two horse-drawn sleighs traveling up and down Main Street.

As I was leaving the coffee shop, I got to see The Big Guy up close and personal as he slipped in to get warm with a quick cup of java at the counter. I learned that when he's in the red suit, Santa is always on duty. A girl -- shy, perhaps because she's on the verge of no longer believing -- stared at him long and hard before approaching him with her tentative request: "Earrings. Pierced. Dangling." I felt sorry for her, because both the shop owner and a patron were taping her exchange with their phones. Apparently they thought it was so adorable -- and it was, young girl unexpectedly meeting Santa while having brunch with Mom --that it needed to be immortalized. I don't think they thought about how uncomfortable it was for the "star" of their video. It was really her memory and they were infringing on it.

Then I did a little utilitarian shopping -- oversized, padded envelope, drain cleaner, and other such boring shit -- made my way back home in the rain/snow and took a nap. And now I'm bingeing on the new SJP show, Divorce.

See? Nothing!

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: O, Holy Night (1967)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) This beloved carol takes its lyrics from a French poem. What else can we thank the French for? French toast. I haven't had it in a while. Maybe it's time to treat myself!

 
2) How well do you know  "O, Holy Night?" Without looking up the lyrics, could you sing along with Ella? Not well at all. I don't really like it. Here's the thing: It was chosen because it seemed to be popular with our Saturday 9 regulars when last summer we were asked what carol popped into our heads. 

Not only don't I care much for this song, but (hold on), I'm not that crazy about Ella Fitzgerald. I know, I know! No less an expert than Frank Sinatra said, "It doesn't get any better than Ella." But both she and this carol leave me cold. If I were queen of the blogosphere, we'd be doing Andy Williams singing "Silent Night." My favorite carol by the man whose voice just means Christmas to me.

BTW, even though this Christmas Eve I will be away from home, we'll attend a church in Key West that ends its service by inviting the congregation to sing this by candlelight. That's an important Christmas tradition for me. I so love that I'm able to continue it.

3) In order to get this record into stores in time for Christmas 1967, Ella had to record this in late July. So let's reverse that. Now that it's Christmastime, what do you miss most about summer? My guys! Have you heard who won the World Series? MY GUYS!

I miss you so much, Anthony Rizzo!

4) Sam is crazy about the open-toed pumps she'll be wearing to holiday parties, but that means she needs to get a pedi. Will you be at a salon between now and year-end? Yes. I'll have a haircut/color Wednesday evening at 5:00. It was supposed to be this morning but I threw myself on the stylist's mercy to get it changed because of today's winter blast. I don't want to take a cab on streets slicked by freezing rain, and the thought of public transit in these conditions makes me want to cry. Fortunately, I've known him for a very long time -- I've been in his chair for decades and before that (right after high school) we actually dated for a summer -- so he'll see my right after he closes on Wednesday. Which reminds me: I must tip him extra big this time. I'm on his personal time.

 
5) Will you be consuming any egg nog this holiday season? And if you do, will it be spiked? I don't know if I'll be having egg nog, but if I do, it will be spiked.

 
6) Thinking of holiday cuisine, what's your favorite Christmas cookie? My grandma made almond cookies similar to these every year. They were my favorite on her tray of cookies, but I found out recently that she didn't like making them, or eating them, for that matter. She thought her only daughter, my aunt, liked them and so she made batch after batch. Turns out my aunt really didn't care for them but thought my grandma was proud of the way the recipe came out, so she raved about them. Kind of like a cookie Gift of the Magi, I guess. At any rate, my aunt and I agree we both miss my grandma and her cookies very much this time of year.

7) Sam knows she will get a bottle of red wine from her boss, because that's what he gives his staff every year. Is there a gift you can count on receiving? I haven't received it yet, but I bet my cousin will send me a calendar, as she does almost every Christmas. As a private joke to myself, I sent her a Lord of the Rings calendar this year. (She's loves her some hobbits.)

 
8) What one gift would you most like to receive this year? Do you think anyone will get it for you? The new movie Jackie is only playing at a handful of theaters and none is near me, or convenient to public transportation. I'd love someone with a car to take me. (Though since the subject is the immediate aftermath of the assassination, I appreciate that it's not a  feel-good holiday movie.)

Love this poster because the real JBKO was self conscious about her gnawed nails.

9) This time of year is big for charitable fundraising. Here's your chance to plug a cause or organization that's near and dear to you. Toys for Tots. I hate it, HATE IT that some child will feel he was naughty or that Santa doesn't love him, or gives up on Santa before he's ready, just because his parents can't afford a gift. If you haven't donated to a toy drive in your own neighborhood, please consider helping out by clicking here. There's still time, and Toys for Tots still needs your help. Let's keep the Christmas magic alive for some wee ones.

You can donate here.

It has a name!

Went to the dermatologist today. She's a specialist in scalp issues and diagnosed my thinning hair as seborrheic dermatitis. I have a skin infection, kinda like a yeast infection but on my head, and it should be easy to treat with steroids, prescription shampoo and OTC Rogaine. While she doesn't think it's serious because the hair on the unaffected areas of my scalp is still "dense," it may take a while to cure.

So it's good to know what I have. She dismissed autoimmune disease because my pattern of thinning/loss is inconsistent with that diagnosis, and that's also good. But, since she doesn't believe I suffer from an autoimmune condition, it means that the scalp issue and my ongoing fatigue are unrelated ... and I still have no reason to point to for the fatigue. So in 2017, I guess I have an apnea/sleep study to look forward to.

But let's keep focused on the pony: What I have has a name, it's treatable, and it may be tenacious but not serious. YEA!

Happy birthday to me, part 8

Last night I had dinner with Kathleen where we celebrated both her and my birthdays and Christmas. We went to a new (to me) Mediterranean restaurant and shared a variety of small plates as we exchanged gifts.

She gave me these adorable little notecards. Each one looks like a Beatles 45 rpm record, as well as a book about "the swinging 60s." Clearly she knows where my heart is!

It was good to catch up with her. She's an interesting woman -- a good mother, an ever-evolving career woman, wife to a challenging but fascinating man, good daughter to ill and aging parents. Well over 50, she's become a passionate runner. I enjoy hearing about how she connects to her body now that she's a cancer survivor.

Thinking of that, it was a relief to talk to her about Barb. I think of Barb, her husband, and cancer all the time. It weighs heavily on me. It confuses me. I want to help but I don't know how. I want to help, but I don't want to intrude. Kathleen not only knows Barb, she understands what it's like to face cancer.

Kathleen promises that we have to get together soon to see the Christmas blockbusters. I know she means these things when she says them, but we'll see if it comes to pass. She was also going to watch a Cubs play off game with me, too ... I think I have to learn to enjoy her when I see her but not expect more time/involvement than she can deliver at this time in her life.

You give love a bad name

I try to visit everyone who plays Saturday 9. I inherited the blog from "Crazy Sam" and Bud and feel a responsibility to keep it going. Last week, one of the questions asked our players to tell us about an interesting relative.

As I scrolled down one blogger's comments so I could leave mine, I came upon a post that really disappointed me. This woman said that she was related to an actor I grew up watching, that she heard he'd died and wondered if he'd been "saved," but since he was a "libtard," she couldn't be sure.

It always upsets me when people wrap their hate in piety. And make no mistake about it, the suffix of "tard" is ugly and contemptuous. Instead of expressing the love and joy that can come from following Christ, it makes Christians sound judgemental and exclusionary.

But this insensitive ass got to me to thinking about Jesus and what He wants and expects of us. Would He prefer that we proselytize and spread "The Word," but treat others with disapproval/disgust, or would He rather we not believe but treat one another with respect and love. (And the "libtard" actor she mentioned was famous for having marched for civil rights n the 1960s.)

Obviously, I think He wants both: our hearts and our deeds. But I think that He probably looks more kindly upon the well-meaning but non-believing actor than He does the woman who uses her faith as an excuse for her scorn.

Sunday Stealing

The Bearded Questions

What is some of your favorite music? Pop, of course. Vintage, old-school rock. The great American songbook. And, thanks to Hamilton, we can now add rap to the list. Could I love Lin-Manuel Miranda more? (Stops to think.) No, I could not.

List your three favorite scents. Cinnamon. Lavender. Black Pearls.

How do you ground yourself or recharge? Alone time.

Any ways you treat or spoil yourself? I reward myself every week for a job well done by taking myself out for breakfast. (This past Saturday it was steel-cut oats and hot apples and cinnamon and brown sugar.) I enjoy it solo, just me and my book.

Besides your blog, do you have a creative past-time? No. I write for a living.

Share something difficult you've been through. 2016 was without a doubt the worst year 

of my life. It began with 90 days of tenacious tummy trouble, which took my doctor forever to first diagnose and then cure. Then my vision was messed up and now we're trying to get to the bottom of my fatigue/hair and nail issues. I can you what I don't have -- diabetes, kidney or thyroid disorder. But what do I have? Fuck if I know. Maybe it's sleep apnea ... maybe it's some type of autoimmune condition ... I see a dermatologist who specializes in these things on the 15th. Sigh. And that's just me. My dear friend John was severely ill last June; he was hospitalized and lost a toe. Mindy's mother died. Both Barb and her husband faced cancer. Henry and Reg totaled their car. My nephew is battling migraines and depression. This isn't even all of it. Really, it's gotten to where I'm afraid to answer the phone or open an email! If it wasn't for my Cubs, I'd be a basket case right now. HEY! YOU ASKED!

     What helps you fall asleep? Rumchata.

What is one strength and one weakness of yours? Strength: I can handle whatever comes my way. Weakness: I completely lack self discipline.

Have you ever received a letter or written one to someone else? Oh, come on. Of course. I've got a letter here from my cousin that I should answer today, while I'm snowed in. I have another letter from a friend of my late mother's that I ought to answer, too.

What makes you feel powerful, what breathes life into you? Little victories at work. I am energized by those presentations that leave me saying, "I can do this job." I get off on helping my client build their business.

What's your favorite thing to do at night?  Drinks with friends.

If you could go back to any era, what would they be? Midcentury. 1800s or 1900s, they both fascinate me.

Your favorite things to wear at home? Jammies. 

If you could be immortal or have an extremely long life span which would you pick and why? I'd like to be immortal because the implication is that I wouldn't be aging rapidly. I'm not crazy about the decay that comes with aging.

Tell us about something positive you have done for yourself or someone recently.

Yesterday I donated Chloe the Cat to the local toy drive. I like thinking of Santa handing her to a happy kid who will hug her tight.

One thing you like about your appearance? I have pretty green eyes.

     Something that makes you feel better after a hard day? Cuddling a cat.

If you have one, name a favorite book and movie. 

Things improved as the day wore on

Saturday afternoon was a pretty average affair. I stocked up at the store because a snowstorm is predicted. I finally put my summer clothes away and dragged out the winter ones. Yawn.

Saturday night was our last movie group meetup of 2016. We saw My Reputation, an enjoyable enough Barbara Stanwyck soaper that takes place in Chicagoland and has Christmas and New Year's scenes. Not many people showed up -- every TV station's "storm team" was a little hysterical about the white stuff -- but in a way I prefer that because we had a better post-movie discussion. Our moderator, Will, loves these old films so much and knows so much about them. It's a pleasure to talk to him about his passion.

After the movie, Joanna and I went for drinks and wished one another a Merry Christmas as we watched the snow fall.

I am home and I'm happy. I feel like we have officially kicked off the holiday season.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Snowbird (1971)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) In this song, Elvis wants the snowbird to fly away and take the snow back with her. Have you seen a measurable snowfall yet this season? We had snow last weekend but it's all melted away. It's supposed to start again this afternoon and continue until ... I dunno ... April?

2) Drivers in snowy climes are encouraged to keep salt, sand or kitty litter in the trunk because those items can help a car regain traction in the snow. Do you have an emergency kit in your car right now? If so, what's in it? No car. But I've written so many articles on this, I know what you're supposed to carry: flares, shovel, energy bars, a charger for your phone, blanket, and a protein shake or two (less likely to freeze than water). And a 5 lb. bag of clay kitty litter.

3) Back in 2007, North Dakota set the world record for the most snow angels made at one time (8,910). Do you enjoy playing in the snow? I used to love sledding. Do kids still do that? Or is it too low-tech?

4) Chionophobia is the fear of snow. Astraphobia is the fear of thunder and lightening. Lilapsophobia is the fear of tornadoes and hurricanes. Do you have to cope with any of these fears? Nope.
 
5) Elvis' daughter Lisa Marie split her childhood between Memphis and Los Angeles, so she seldom saw snow. When she was a little girl, she was whisked her off to Denver in her father's private plane so the two of them could spend an afternoon playing in the snow. If you could take off and spend the afternoon anywhere in the world, where would you go? I'd fly off to Los Angeles to meet my oldest friend for lunch at her favorite place -- the Hotel Casa Del Mar on the beach. Her birthday is this weekend and I fear no one is fussing over her. This would make her happy. And, considering all the snow that's expected here, it would make me happy, too!

 

6) At home and onstage, Elvis refused to wear jeans and only wore denim if a film role demanded it. This is because when he was young, classmates teased him for "dressing poor" in jeans and coveralls. What did you wear to class when you were in grammar school? This page from a 1967 Sears catalog is pretty indicative. I wasn't allowed to wear slacks unless the mercury dipped below 20º. But I could wear a "pantdress" or "culottes," which I preferred because I never did like dealing with slips. And knee socks! No self respecting girl in my gradeschool wore anklets. (BTW, it makes me sad to think of Elvis being bullied. Kids can be so cruel.)


7) Elvis and President Jimmy Carter are distant relatives (the President is the sixth cousin of the King's great grandfather). Your turn: Tell us about one of your more interesting relatives. My dad was a talented auto mechanic and he enjoyed his work. Before I was born, he spent summer weekends working in the pits at the drag raceway. It wasn't until after he died that I learned my mom persuaded him to give that up when my older sister was born because it was too dangerous. I wonder if that didn't have something to do with his lukewarm attitude toward parenting.

8) In 1971, when Elvis released his recording of "Snowbird," You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown was a hit on Broadway. Who is your favorite Peanuts character? Charlie Brown had a good heart.

9) Random question: You receive a gift certificate from a gourmet food company that can be redeemed for one of these three things: 1 lb. of caviar, 5 lbs. of steak or a 10 lb., live lobster. Which would you choose? I would have gone with the lobster, except that the question specifies "live." Sorry, I just can't. So I'll take the steak, please. They "don't have legs and don't run around."

I refuse to be that person

It's not news to you if you read this blog -- I was very much against Donald Trump's election. And, if you're one of the people who applauded when he mocked the disabled reporter, or dismissed John McCain's heroism because he captured, or called Senator Elizabeth Warren "Pocahontas," or ... or ... I do think the word "deplorable" fits you. It may even be too polite.

That said: Donald Trump will be my President on January 20. He won. I respect that.

I want him to succeed. I want to learn that he isn't the homophobe his selection of Mike Pence would indicate. I want to believe that somewhere under that bullying, power hungry facade beats the heart of a true patriot.

I respect my country. I respect the Presidency. And I refuse to be one of those people. You remember them -- the ones who insisted on disrespecting Barack Obama, referring to him as "obama" with no initial cap, or "obummer." The people who maintained that he "hated America." The people who applauded when Mitch McConnell and John Boehner vowed -- before he even took office -- to make Barack Obama a one-term President. The people who cheered when Congress refused to hold hearings for Merrick Garland. Those people alternately confused and disgusted me with their ridiculous, toxic partisanship, and I hope I learned from their very bad example.

A coworker told me his wife is still so depressed about Trump's election she can't get excited about Christmas or decorating the tree. My friend Barb says she hopes he will be impeached. My Facebook feed is filled with posts about how dismal the world looks now that we are in Trump's America.

I am still unhappy with the election results. But I have to move on. I have to hope for the best but  be vigilant and, when Trump does something that I cannot abide, I must be ready to act. Within the system. And with respect for the man and the office.

I've always been a Kennedy Girl and the Kennedy brother who lived a full life was Ted. The  Lion of the Senate authored legislation throughout the Nixon, Ford, Reagan, HW Bush and W Bush administrations. If he could fight the good fight without losing his belief in the system or joie de vivre, so can I.

Happy birthday to me, part 7

Wednesday night was a mixed bag with Barb, as time with Barb just naturally will be from now on. She is, after all, dealing with her husband's lung cancer while building a new house in another city and trying to get her own breast reconstruction done.

So the fact that she point zero thought into my birthday gift -- a candle and bar of soap -- hurt at first but then I got a hold of myself. No, I'm not a priority for her right now. And while that stings, I have to suck it up and accept that this is how it has to be

Barb also didn't like the play. I sent her a link  days before, but she never opened it. So I was offended at first when she said she hoped it would be a musical -- showtunes about autism? -- and she was offended that a dog was killed (before the play starts). But again, the regular rules don't apply right now. Her life is overwhelming her. This is my time to step up and be more sensitive.

The good news is that her husband has actually gained 10 lbs.! That's an indication that the chemo is working. The contractors on her home in Hilton Head have figured out how to add an elevator to their new home without prohibitive cost. It will make it possible for her husband to go from the garage up to their bedroom without using stairs, which will probably always be too taxing for his compromised lungs.

I'm a little confused about her the state of her reconstructive surgery. First it was on hold because of her infection, then there was dimpling and now her breasts don't match. I don't have any more detail than that because I don't ask questions. I just let her talk. This is intensely personal and she'll let me know what she's comfortable with me knowing.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

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1. What are you currently reading? Hercule Poirot's Christmas. An eccentric, wealthy old Brit unexpectedly decides to invite his family (some estranged) and friends for Christmas. Somebody gets dead. I just started it, but I appreciate the way Christie is setting it all up. It's the framework she herself devised, so it's no wonder that she's expert. She's coloring within the lines, but she's doing it masterfully and I'm thoroughly enjoying being in the hands of an old pro.

2. What did you recently finish reading? Till the End of Tom by Gillian Roberts, an installment in the Amanda Pepper series. I'm a fan of this series. I like our heroine, high school English teacher Amanda, her fiance detective CK and best friend Sasha. I also enjoy that, in addition to the mystery, Roberts always uses something more universal and substantial as a backdrop. This time it's eating disorders and how a young girl's self image can be developed, or warped.

BUT the mystery itself in this outing was rather uninvolving. I truly didn't care who killed wealthy, old-money cad Tomas Severin. Also, there's a pretty big hole in the plot. For a family as established as the Severins to have -- and keep -- such a big skeleton closeted is pretty hard to believe. (There! Told without a spoiler! Feeling quite proud of myself.)

3.  What will you read next? A biography from my tall TBR pile.