Tag Archives: Trump

Need to Know Basis

I want to start worrying about getting old again. I want to worry about my crow’s feet turning into pigeon’s feet. I want to feel bad that when I wave my arm, my sagging skin keeps flapping like a loose sail. I want to worry about whether I should be buying a cemetery plot rather than worrying if there’s a plot to bring down America as I’ve known it.

I want to worry about not being able to remember anyone’s name. Is it dementia creeping up on me or overload? Because all of a sudden I need to know a lot of names that I just took for granted before.

I can be naïve—I used to think banks existed for me to deposit my money in. Bankers were there to help and protect me. That’s what I thought about our government too. I thought the elected officials would act in the best interest of the country as a whole. So complacent was I that I didn’t worry about officials’ actions or know their names. I admit I still don’t want to know the name of the Speaker of the House is Paul Ryan or the senator from New York is Amy Schumer’s cousin. I don’t want to know that Mitch McConnell is from Kentucky. I’d like to feel everything was going to be all right and I could obsess over my bunions.

I want to worry about my weight. That would be so refreshing instead of worrying about my granddaughter taking ballet at our local JCC. And I’d like to fret about whether I should join the American Hair Loss Association or just quit coloring my hair.

I’d like to have trouble falling asleep at night thinking about how time is flying rather than thinking about neighbors who could be deported in an instant. I’d like to have time to think about whether Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty screwed up because they are old farts instead of needing to think nonstop about the deep divisions in our country.

I’d like to worry again about how short a skirt a woman my age can wear. And whether I can read a Jodi Picoult book without getting my heart broken. I’d even like to worry about how I can get my husband to drink enough water. That I know is a lost cause. I just hope our country isn’t.

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Just Saying

I’m a head case, always have been and unless I get dementia, always will be. My mind is continuously busy with thoughts and questions so it’s not unusual for me to walk into a room and not know why I’ve come there. People say that’s a sign of senility but I’ve been doing that since I was ten. I didn’t realize until this morning that my mind is also crowded with adages, song lyrics and literary allusions.

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As I did the breakfast dishes, I was thinking about George Washington. He cut down the cherry tree but he would not tell a lie. That story from first grade has had a lasting effect on me. I rarely tell even a white lie—I’d never lie about something big. And my word is my bond.

Thoughts about George led to a flood of others. Growing up, my brother, sister and I were taught to never judge anyone until we’d walked in his or her shoes. We drank in the concepts of compassion and respect for others with our Gerber formula. We knew that there but for the grace of God, we’d have gone into the ovens of Auschwitz.

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Taught to be responsible for each other and be grateful for what we had, we knew we needed to share our bounty. I took this to heart and have literally given people the shirt off my back.

My brother gave away the money for his birthday party to help a family in need.

My brother gave away the money for his birthday party to help a family in need.

The work ethic and saving for a rainy day were strong themes in my childhood. Our parents were children of immigrants fleeing religious persecution.

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They married during the Depression and had no money. But when the going got tough, the tough got going. They worked like dogs to become successful and to make sure we all went to college.

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We were admonished that the early bird gets the worm and that practice makes perfect.

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“Waste not, want not,” they said if we left the lights on. If we didn’t finish our vegetables, we were reminded about the starving children in China. Along with this, we were taught that a penny saved was a penny earned, but also that all that glitters is not gold. There was also a sneaky suspicion that money was the root of all evil.

My parents weren’t the speak when spoken to kind. We were encouraged to have our own opinions as long as we honored our mother and father, and thought before we spoke. However, we were cautioned about opening a Pandora’s box and that it’s better to be safe rather than sorry.

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Since the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I taught these same values to my own children.

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They have taught them to theirs. Which makes me proud as punch, even though I know that pride goes before a fall. We all believe immigrants like our families have made this country strong.

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I think who we are is a combination of our nature and how we’ve been nurtured. I’ve been told many times not to be so nice because nice guys finish last, but it’s just the way I’m wired. Besides, I’m the tortoise to many others’ hare. Slow and steady wins my race.

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Which reminds me, I think there’s a place for everything and everything has a place. That’s why I go crazy when I need my scissors and they aren’t where I put them. The Borrowers have moved them.

Even though I’m an old dog, I’m trying to learn new tricks. An inveterate multi-tasker, I can rush around like a chicken with my head cut off, but I’m getting better. I don’t rob Peter so much to pay Paul. I’m more into the moment, into the Now. I’ve always been slow to anger, and believed you can catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar. I have a long fuse but when lit, watch out. Then I’d be happy to cut off my nose to spite my face. I’m willing to share all this because I’m an open book. The truth is, you can’t tell a book by its cover.

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Besides all these sayings, song lyrics play in my head. They come up from my subconscious, unbidden. Last fall while my husband was going through Proton radiation, the constant theme song playing was, “Put on a Happy Face.”

Lately, it’s “Wake Me Up When It’s All Over,” because I’m as frightened as a rabbit about the present political climate, as well as just climate in general. Hope springs eternal so I’m hoping the Emperor has someone around who tells him he has no clothes on. I’m hoping they don’t throw the baby out with the bath water when reforming affordable health care.

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I’ve given up watching television. I’m sick of the pundits earning fame and fortune while crying, “The sky is falling.” And I can’t handle the bloggers, who obviously never went to Journalism School where we learned to be clear, concise and accurate.

Right now the lyric in my head is Bob Marley’s, “every little thing’s gonna be all right.” I know there’s no fool like an old fool, but I still believe good triumphs over evil. I’m still looking for the silver lining.

 

 

 

Inauguration Day Realites, Please

 

Please don’t tell me I shouldn’t be dressed in black because I’m in mourning on this 20th day of January 2017.

Please don’t read this if it will disturb your Trump sensibilities.

Please don’t tell me that I’m un-American if I don’t consider this man my President.

Please don’t tell me to rejoice in the peaceful transfer of power. Sorry, the transfer of power was powered by Russian hacks and unscrupulous people who created lies to denigrate Hillary Clinton. Fake news became a new industry fueled by the Internet. Outright lies were made up and spread around, bringing an income to these lowlifes. Peaceful transfer of power means nothing when it is tainted.

Please don’t tell me Kellyanne Conway should be admired. She is a model for a propaganda robot, effective but not admirable. She can be programmed to spin anything.

Please don’t tell me Trump was America’s choice. Almost 66 million people voted for Clinton compared to 63 million for him.

Please don’t tell me my dream of a united America working together is just that, a pipe dream. I don’t believe you.

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Please don’t tell me Trump has the good of the country at heart.

Please don’t tell me Trump’s rhetoric didn’t unleash bigots to perpetrate acts of hate.

Please don’t tell me not to worry.

Please don’t tell me that gun rights are more important than lives.

Please don’t tell me I shouldn’t be suspicious when I can’t get on the Internet. I’m sure there is tracking of dissidents, which now has a broader definition. I’m sure my Google history can be traced.

Please don’t tell me I shouldn’t have lain awake half the night until I took a tranquilizer so I could get some sleep.

Please don’t tell me I’m stupid that I cried when I woke up here at 7:15 and knew that in Washington, D.C., Trump had been sworn in.

Please don’t tell me to put a smile on my face.

Please don’t tell me I shouldn’t feel as if I’m seeing the beginning of train wreck and that I’m powerless to do anything but watch.

Please don’t tell me that women in the land of the free shouldn’t have dominion over their own bodies.

Please don’t tell me that I shouldn’t be disturbed that the Republicans blocked Obama’s Supreme Court nomination.

Please don’t tell me the country hasn’t be hijacked by the conservative Republicans who believe they should be able to tell private citizens what they are allowed to do. States’ rights? B.S. And if you’re old? Forget it. Before the election, you were respected. Now, you’re on the way to being disenfranchised.

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Please don’t tell me I should be feeling proud of America today. Sixty-three million voted for a man who felt it was okay to grab a woman’s genitals. They voted for a man who discarded beautiful wife, number one, for beautiful younger wife, number two, etc.

Please don’t try to make me drink the Cool Aid. I’m not swallowing the lies and mistruths no matter what. Business is booming and unemployment is down.

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Please don’t re-write history and tell me things that are not true. I remember when George W Bush left office. America was teetering on the edge of disaster. Unemployment was so high. Banks closed their doors. The auto industry was in the pits. Friends lost their entire life savings at a time they thought they’d retire. Others went out of business or lost their homes. We took money out the bank and hid it under the mattress. Some people survived, others’ didn’t. Fact: Obama leaves a booming economy and low unemployment behind.

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Please don’t tell me the majority of Americans voted for a man who’s proven he doesn’t keep his word. He’s a man who believes the world can be flimflammed as he’s done time and again in his business practices. But he lost by 3 million votes.

Please don’t laugh in my face and call me a stupid liberal who doesn’t get it. I am one of the 65, 844, 954 who voted for Hillary.

Please don’t tell me the group Black Lives Matter is misguided. They, I should say we, as I am a member, were just ahead of the curve. Black lives don’t matter and neither do Jewish, Muslim, Latino, LGBT or any life that doesn’t fit the narrow picture outlined by Richard Spencer, the alt right leader and his friends, the Tea Partiers. Oh, there I go being silly again. Unborn lives of any hue do matter to them. But let them got born—forget about it!

Please don’t tell me I’m ridiculous to want all Americans to have health care and a full belly.

Please don’t tell me not to worry about my grandchildren. If the hyperbole leads to war, two of them are at an age where they could be drafted. Also, all my grandchildren go to Public Schools and are receiving excellent educations. It looks like this could be in the past as one of the basics of American life is being threatened.

Please don’t tell me Trump wants to be a President for all Americans. Just his Cabinet picks point to the opposite.

Please don’t tell me that everything is going to be all right. I want to believe it, but I need some proof.

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Please don’t tell me to give him a chance. I’ve been doing that. I haven’t seen him reach out to the four corners of America. I haven’t seen him surround himself with statesmen who are skilled in working with the system. His advisors are liars and bigots and ill prepared for the crucial work ahead.

Please don’t tell me to get a life and move on.

Please don’t tell me my nightmares are ridiculous.

And please, don’t mess with me today. For your own sake.