Indulgence

The best laid plans

This morning I had a conversation with a friend about indulgences. The way right now, in our current political climate, everything that isn’t calling or protesting feels like an indulgence–a struggle between needing to step away and allow yourself to enjoy something and feeling guilty for doing (let alone enjoying) anything that isn’t directly related to learning everything possible about what’s going on; trying to sort out reality from scaremongering, hope from wishful thinking.

I’ve been eating too much (and way too large a percentage is comfort food), watching the news/Twitter feed/reading the news too much, not sleeping enough, worrying too much (maybe, it feels like there’s no such thing as too much worrying when our society is imploding and half the time my girl’s eyeballs look like they’re on fire; when an evening of fun results in a day of not feeling well and seizure watch while the GOP decides just how much health care she doesn’t deserve) and not writing much at all. Is there a point to working on the MIP (Mess In Progress) right now? It’s speculative, my usual magical realism with additional elements of near future dystopia.  How’s that for a non-sensical mouthful? Not sure I’ve seen that shelf in Barnes & Noble. Eventually, if it ever gets completed, I’ll sort it out. I’ve read several excellent novels recently, a few of which have been smart, smart dystopians. Is what I’m saying really new/different/adding to the conversation?  How exactly do I add to a word count when I’m bombarded by bills, laws, and declarations that my voice–as a woman of a certain age, as a mother, as someone in the wrong tax bracket, as someone who lives in New York–doesn’t count?  Is there a point to blogging and bleating about subversive, unethical happenings in government that will harm us all when actual journalists are being blown off, attacked, jailed, and prevented from recording the daily propaganda statements?

Naturally, in the interest of keeping the few marbles I have left, this is where I stop thinking and get back to cooking.

Hmm, not quite right, is it?

I’ve been making this particular coffee cake for years. I think it was the first cake I ever made, my grandmother loved it. Not only have I been making it for years, I’ve been making it in the same dish. Today, I didn’t feel like climbing up to get that dish down from the top cabinet, and this other pan was already out.  Years ago had I done this, I would have a) stopped at this point to get the correct baking dish down and transferred the batter before adding the apples and topping, b) made another batch to double the recipe/fill the pan, or, most likely c) scrapped it and begun again.  Today I went with d) screw it, let’s see what happens.

Close enough, it still tastes good.

Comfort food, anyone?

Feed It All Your Woes

Through the fountain, Columbus Circle

I don’t know about anyone else, but my short stories always start with a sense. A glimpse, a scent, a phrase overheard, a taste. I used to imagine an eventual book of short stories, grouped by each of the senses. Usually while I’m walking, something will trigger the writing portion of my brain and burrow in. Often I try to ignore it, and over the coming days, weeks, months, I’ll know it’s growing, creating tunnels that connect into a story by the time I sit down to write.  This is not my “process” (could I sound any more pretentious?) for full length manuscripts. I am not a careful plotter who creates extensive notes, charts, and detailed outlines, but a full novel needs more than a whiff.

One of these bristle-worms-of-the-brain began creating a space for itself the other day as I walked down the wet subway stairs to wait for the dreaded 6 train. I’m letting it lie, don’t have an actual story for this story yet, but for whatever reason it’s brought up all kinds of old memories.

For me, old memories are pretty much synonymous with old music, the songs and albums I associate with different people and experiences, from jazz to blues to classic rock, from punk to show tunes to folk rock.   Anyway, I thought of an old friend I haven’t thought of in years. I can’t remember his full name, but I remember hours of poring over used albums in Academy Records and Bleecker Bobs.  He taught me about reggae beyond Bob Marley, and after work I would drag him to the (now mostly gone) hole in the wall folk rock bars of the west Village. We worked with autistic children and teens when autism was still considered a rare disorder, before the definition and diagnosis expanded to a spectrum, and drowning myself in music was the best way to not leave my heart smashed in a million pieces behind the head of a child trying to use his skull like a hammer.

Naturally this led me to youtube, listening to music I haven’t listened to in a long time, including the album below, which I’ve been listening to for the past three days.  I know I wore through at least two copies on vinyl and one on cassette, and while I can’t tell you how many years since I last listened, I still remember every word of every lyric. The entire album is beautiful, and some of it is quite dark, but when I was younger it left me hopeful and looking forward.  Now it’s got me looking back, time and opportunities lost. This was Joni Mitchell’s debut album (ancient as I am, it was already long released by the time I “discovered” it).  For all of her albums that I have owned and enjoyed, and despite the fact that when my birthday comes I associate it with her collaboration with Charles Mingus–their rap/scat of Happy Birthday, this is still my favorite.  Song to a Seagull.

25, 45, 65: Hut!

Sunrise, because who needs sleep?

The majority of those I know and those I follow on social media are rightly pleased with the appointment of a special counsel (and with the specific appointment of Robert Mueller) to investigate the possible (lol) collusion and coordination between 45’s camp and Russian officials.  This puts us on the road to possible impeachments, indictments, convictions.

There are also quite a few calling for the use of the 25th Amendment, which would be a way of removing 45 because he is literally unfit for office. I think this is the option that makes the most sense because, in my opinion, he is literally unfit and unable to comprehend the responsibilities, duties, and consequences of his words and actions. This doesn’t address the larger problems, which are all the things and people that put us here. As I said in my last post, nothing he has done or said is a surprise, he is who he’s always been. When this is all over, if there is even a pretense of democracy left, we will be here again, unless we address the underlying issues. Now. I’m just going to hit a few of the biggies, the most immediate concerns.

Fake news! This is a real issue. The FCC needs to stop worrying about who used the seven dirty words and instead get some regulation and oversight going over who can/cannot identify their TV/cable/newspapers/internet sites as news. If there aren’t fact checkers working overtime, they don’t issue corrections when they get it wrong, and they’re just spouting off whatever comes into their heads (yanno, like Mrs Fringe), they aren’t news and cannot call themselves news.

The GOP: Yup, every one of those fuckers has got to go. Not because I disagree with their tax plan, and not even because I think we should have nationalized health care, but because they knew. They all knew.  Each and every one of them knew he was unqualified, unstable, a proven liar, relied on unstable extremists as advisors, wore his many, many lawsuits like medals, viewed women as objects to be categorized and mauled, viewed immigrants as occasionally useful subhumans, admired dictators above democratic leaders, and strongly suspected Russian ties.  They supported him anyway.  They thought he’d make them and their buddies lots of money by relaxing and omitting those pesky regulations (correct), and likely they thought his inexperience and disinterest in the nuts and bolts would make him easily manipulable (big old incorrect).  These are not people who take their duties as elected representatives with any degree of responsibility, no true ethics.  Get rid of every last slimy one.  This includes the VP. He knew all of it. If he didn’t, he’s as incompetent as 45.  And yes, McCain too.  Moderate my ass. He opened the door to these loon extremists being taken seriously with Sarah Palin, and fell right in line behind 45 as eagerly as the so-called Freedom Caucus (formerly known as the Tea Party).

Us. By us I include those who supported and continue to support 45.  I can’t think of a single thing he stands for that I don’t despise, but. We are still the United States of America, fractured as we might be right now, so it is distinctly unhelpful to draw an invisible line with invisible ink and blame “those people.”  Sure, some of his supporters are unrecognizable to me as American citizens, with their hiding on compounds hugging their armories and preparing for Armageddon, but more of his supporters are regular Joes and Janes who hate. That hatred has festered and spread, cultured with ignorance and disinformation until there were enough to vote someone like 45 into the office of President of the United States. This didn’t just happen overnight–we’ve got that long history of hatred–that long history of bullshit pull yourself up by your bootstraps, and a more recent history where we’ve gone from admiring those who succeeded against the odds to glorifying the uneducated and vilifying those who do the work and get their actual degrees by studying. It happened when people said “W was a “C” student” like that was a good thing. Having Jefferson Beuregard Sessions, a man too racist to make it through to become a federal judge during the Reagan administration as our Attorney General didn’t happen overnight.  It happened with the acceptance of the privatization of the prison system increasing the flow of the school to prison pipeline for young men (and women) of color, it happened with the demonization and endorsement of bullshit studies re marijuana, it happened when Black Lives Matter was regarded as a nuisance instead of a necessity, it happened when we allowed racial profiling to flourish. It happened when we allowed police brutality, particularly against people of color, to continue unchecked without justice.

More us. It’s time to stop fantasizing about the only acceptable President being the Messiah. Barack Obama was an excellent President, but he was neither perfect nor magical.  This made his decisions untenable to many on both the left and the right. Maybe it’s just me, but isn’t that just a little bit completely batshit crazy?

We are in trouble. We are in trouble on the world stage, and we are in trouble within our own borders. The American social fabric isn’t merely torn, it’s ragged. I don’t believe a patch will hold, we have to rework these threads.

Who Knew?

Everything I Needed to Know about Russia I Learned from The Russian Tea Room, by 45

I’m seeing a lot of variations of the above title on social media. Who knew, I didn’t think it would be this bad, etc.

We knew. We all knew. Some of us knew and liked it–those people still do. Some of us knew and pretended the GOP was the same as it was 45 years ago, mumbling about checks and balances. Some of us knew and screamed it over and over again, and were told to take off our tin foil hats. Because it’s a surprise that a man without ethics or morals, who made his fortune by lying and cheating others, who made a campaign out of surrounding himself with others who don’t have ethics or morals, would govern without ethics, morals, concern for others or norms. Because it’s a surprise that a GOP that spent eight years blatantly obstructing a well liked and brilliant President would fall in line like dominoes behind a man without ethics or morals. They were very clear, they didn’t care about his character–character only matters when a democrat is in office.

I knew. I am not a historian, not a politician, not a world traveler, not a mover and shaker, not a young black man caught in the school to prison pipeline, and I knew.

I first said it here, when I didn’t think he had a chance, back in the innocence of June 2015. I was certain Jeb Bush would win the Republican nomination.  I didn’t address him again for a while, he wasn’t someone I ever took seriously, why start then?

So I didn’t blog about him again until here, February 2016.

And then here May 2016.

Here, June 2016.

Here June 2016, continuing to sound the alarm that we cannot and should not ignore our history.

Here, August 2016, where I look at human nature from the lens of 45 saying he could look Syrian children in the face and say they can’t come to this country.

Here, September 2016, right before the first debate.

Here, October 2016, where I was still holding out hope Hillary would win, but unable to imagine how I would continue to be friends with those who supported 45. Spoiler–I haven’t seen any of my 45 supporting friends since the election. 

Also October 2016, when we learned the extent of the depravity, aka pussy grabbing. Spoiler–all those GOP members who were shocked and appalled? Still supported him, still behind him today. 

And again October 2016.

Which leads us to November 2016, the day before election day.

The day after election day, my immediate thoughts and horror, all the implications.

I considered shuttering the blog after this, took a long hiatus and have been sporadic since, because I wake up every damned day feeling like I can’t breathe, let alone string words together.

Instead of skyscrapers reaching for the moon, every day takes us another level lower, with the GOP operating the elevator. Nothing is happening that we didn’t see coming, 45 and his supporters (elected and citizens) were very clear re what they were willing to tolerate, endorse, and applaud. The holier than thou crew on the left didn’t want to get out of their own way, and the blasé nothing-matters-or-changes-it’s-all-business-as-usual, checks and balances won’t let anything get out of hand, well. Here we are. I’m considering expanding my tin foil hat collection to include wall and window coverings.

So we can still have a lot to say with every new manufactured crisis, every disgraceful tweet, but we cannot say who knew. I’m an average gal living an average life. I knew, and so did everyone else. The question is not who knew, the question is who cared. Too few.

Which Circle of Hell Are We in Now?

New Yorkers 1, Howard Kanovitz, 1965

Well, here we are (the fourth circle, greed?). By now everyone knows the House of Representatives passed their version of healthcare, the AHCA–Trumpcare. It was easy enough for them to do, because several of them didn’t bother to read it, they didn’t wait for details and projections from the Congressional Budget Office, and nor were the details made available to the public. What we do know is that this bill takes us backwards in human rights. In addition to other atrocities, it opens the door for individual states to allow insurers to charge more for people with pre-existing conditions. Of course this doesn’t mean every state will, but we know the insurance companies have a long history of putting profit over people, which makes them quite comfy-cozy with the current GOP.

As it stands, it cuts nearly a trillion dollars of Medicaid funding. This will harm millions. The opening of the door to increased costs for those with pre-existing conditions will harm millions more. One of the possibilities that has people like myself (yanno, those of us without dangly bits) in an uproar is what we’ve already seen in the not-too-distant past.  Pregnant? Might become pregnant? Well, sure you can buy health insurance, buuuut we’re going to jack up the rates to make you decide between health insurance and food. Had postpartum depression?  Sorry, we’re going to charge you more now.

And the cherry on top, sexual assault. Many, including myself, have been talking, tweeting, blogging about this. Sexual assault as a pre-existing condition, which could allow insurance companies to deny you or kicking you over to a high risk pool–as in, unaffordable.

Politifact rated this claim as mostly false.  They’re correct. I still call bullshit. It’s true, we don’t know exactly what’s in the bill. It’s true, the bill doesn’t define what is/isn’t a pre-existing condition, the insurance companies do.  However, again, as we know from the not-distant past, before the ACA (Obamacare), people in America who had been treated or even tested for sexually transmitted infections were later denied insurance, or kicked to the high-risk pools.  We know that domestic violence and sexual assault rates are high. We know these are already underreported. We know women are still not treated as equal and autonomous human beings. We know we have someone sitting in the White House who bragged about sexual assault, who rates women according to their mammary glands. We know it’s mostly men who are drafting these bills and making these decisions. That matters. That there isn’t a significant number of people of color, representing all of the many communities and populations that comprise America matters.

So yes, it’s technically correct to say the AHCA isn’t labeling sexual assault a pre-existing condition resulting in unaffordable premiums, but it’s paving the way for this to become the case. Let’s be real here for a second. We don’t want to be inflammatory, don’t want to induce panic when it isn’t necessary, and it isn’t ever productive. But to say it’s out and out untrue is a whitewash, a normalization of what is unnecessarily going to harm us all.

I know it’s a long way to go before this bill becomes law. It goes to the Senate now, and supposedly the Senate plans to write their own version. That doesn’t set me at ease. I’ve heard many say the Senate won’t allow the cuts to Medicaid, particularly Medicaid expansion under the ACA, that they won’t allow the rollback on protections for pre-existing conditions. I hope that’s true, but I remember hearing our current president would never win, he wouldn’t get the backing of the more moderate, traditional members of the GOP, that religious groups wouldn’t support him. I also remember a time when politicians, even Republican ones, talked about protecting the most vulnerable among us, not speaking publicly about the disabled and ill as if they are gum to be scraped off the bottom of their shoes. Hell, I even remember a time when elected members of Congress wouldn’t brazenly admit to not reading a bill they were voting on.

So if my words are inflammatory forgive me, because I’m pretty sure a match has been struck shockingly close to my ovaries.

Zero to Hero: Or Not

I know, I know, I haven’t been around.  First I was writing, which felt shockingly excellent.  Then I got sick, the flu maybe, which sucked. Naturally after I got sick, Art Child got very sick, and the battery for my camera has died, which means no new photos, and before I can blink, weeks have gone by without even considering a post, and a whopping dose of the blues, which means  you didn’t want to hear from me anyway. Trust me.

The other day I was web surfing, and came upon what looks to be a reputable writer’s conference that will be here in the city this summer.  Sure I haven’t opened the Mess-In-Progress in weeks, I’m not quite sure how I’ll work out the money or the logistics but ooh!  I’m considering it.  Maybe it will be motivating. Inspiring. Humbling.  Humiliating. Yeah, maybe I’ll put that thought to the side for now.

Why am I blogging today? I’m not sure. Maybe because I feel like howling at the universe, but apartment life means no howling allowed. This is not a mom blog, or a special needs parenting blog.  I do talk about my kids a fair amount because they’re a huge part of my life, but as I’ve said many times, Mrs Fringe is my spot to be me–all of me; the good, the bad, and the wacky.

I know Jimmy Kimmel did a beautiful job talking about all of this the other day. Heartfelt, honest, a perfect blend of hope and honesty, and I truly thank him for using his platform to talk about families who don’t have millions tuning in to their words, have millions cheering them on and praying for them. Even I teared up as I watched. He had a layer I don’t have anymore, that newness, that shock of how-did-I-get-here?

In parenting, there are moments that make your heart stop. I like to think I’m pretty good in moments of crisis, it’s afterwards, when you have time to think and breathe, when I’ll feel it most.  But yeah, there are those moments where no matter that part of your brain is telling you to move, to speak, to take action, to take a breath…the lobe that’s in control in that one moment is frozen.  I don’t know about anyone else, but for me, it hasn’t always been a huge crisis that prompts this, it’s the neat and perfect dovetailing of implications, suddenly unavoidable.

“Mom, the dark’s been darker than usual.” My heart, my brain, my fucking everything stopped when I heard that. Of course I needed to hear it, I need to know this, but I don’t want to. For the past several months, we’ve been seeing more specialists and adding meds to deal with the issue that’s come up with Art Child’s eyes. I can and will do everything possible to preserve her vision. We’ve been doing everything possible, knowing the odds are ugly, to say the least.  And then I heard that statement.  And the next day she came home with a different edition of a book she’s been reading because “the letters are bigger.”

And then I went online and read about the latest round of “How the GOP is trying to kill the citizens of America and torture the most vulnerable.” Excellent.  Even better, the individual statements of Reps and 45 supporters saying things like people who live “good lives” and “do things the right way” should pay less than those with pre-existing conditions. As another med-needs-mom friend of mine put it, yeah, if only our fetuses hadn’t been drinking and whoring while in the womb, they wouldn’t have those pre-existing conditions. If you don’t have experience with this stuff, let me say sometimes I think it’s a freaking miracle that the majority of babies are born healthy and neuro-typical, because yes, there are that many things that can and too often do go wrong. Another pro-tip for you, everything is genetic. Everything. And most of us will, at some point, develop something considered a pre-existing condition, because it’s coded into our genes. Or we’ll have an accident that will have lasting repercussions. Or old age.

So on one side we’ve got the people who are totally cool with anyone with treatable health issues dying because they can’t afford health care. On the other side (and sometimes, oddly enough, there’s crossover) there are the people who know they and their family were really lucky with the genetic jackpot, and they say things like, “I don’t know how you do it. You’re a hero. Your child is a hero.” Now, I get the whole hero thing when you’re trying to explain to a very small child who’s ill. “You’re a superhero! You’re going to kick cancer’s butt! Slaying cystic fibrosis! Show those seizures who’s boss!”  And I know there are some medical needs parents who find it helpful to think of their children (maybe even themselves, but I haven’t heard that regularly) as heroic in the fight against *insert cause(s) here*.  Or they believe they/their children were chosen. I’m too cynical for this, and frankly, it neither makes me feel better nor gives me strength to make the next phone call, agree to the next med that includes “may cause death” in the list of side effects.

I’m a regular old gal. Really. If you walked past me on the street, well, you’d walk past. Normal. Regular. Average.  You might notice Art Child because she’s fabulous and beautiful, but that might be my bias talking.  You’d probably walk past her too. And my boys. Man boys, who do indeed have ten extra levels of strength, calm, and compassion because they grew up in a house with medical needs.  But you’d walk past them. And that’s all okay. I love a good cape, and so does the girl, but I feel no need to slap on a mask and gadget belt. I just don’t want to be a villain, either, for wanting the best possible chance for the best possible outcome for my child.

 

Magical Thinking

Reality or Magical–What do you see?

Yes, it’s been a while.  Again.  First I was working on a post that’s still sitting in my drafts folder because I couldn’t beat the words into sense, and then life.  Blah blah, medical mayhem, lots of waiting rooms and doctor’s offices, suffice it to say I’m pretty sure any vision test I take from this point forward is null and void– I’ve seen so many while sitting with my girl, I’ve got every chart memorized. Thank you, my fellow Dems/Liberals for being diligent and insisting on being heard about how disastrous the proposed health care bill was, and thank you, GOP, for being in such a mess that you’ve had to put your we-want-you-to-suffer-painfully plans on hold so I can keep doing this.

And oh yes, I’m writing again.  A secret unless you a) read this blog post or b) follow my twitter feed (which you should, because on the thrice annual occasion that I remember to log on, I retweet with the best of them).  It might be more accurate to say I’m rewriting, because this isn’t a glittery new project, this is the rusty old wreck I tabled a few years back that I’ve already talked about reworking.  I figure I *might* be able to use half of what was there, and overall I don’t yet know if I’m taking something that was meh and making it better, or taking something that was meh and puking weird and unidentifiable bits of acid all over it.

Takes a bit of magical thinking to write a novel, regardless of genre.  More than a bit if you’re writing with an eye towards publication.  If you’re looking at trade publishing (as in–not self-publishing) I’m pretty sure the odds are 843,000,000,000 to one.  A couple of years back I blogged about the need for big brass ones in order to believe this could be done.  Despite regular polishing of my metaphorical testicles, here I am, still one of the unwashed and unpublished wannabe novelists.  Clearly, in addition to working diligently on the MIP (Mess in Progress, since I’m still unsure if I can call it a Work in Progress) the answer is to sprinkle some eye of newt into my word cauldron, maybe wave a bit of sage, and wear my very pointiest hat.

Whatever we’re wishing for, I think most of us engage in a bit of magical thinking.  Like, say, this woman.  This is a hell of a story, an excellent snapshot of why supporting 45 and his merry band of fascists was a bad idea.  She’s an American citizen married to a not-quite-undocumented Mexican immigrant.  She voted for our current regime, because she thought they only meant they would deport the “bad ones.”  Her husband wasn’t in hiding, checked in with ICE when he was supposed to, gainfully employed, paid taxes, legit, provisional Social Security number.  Needless to say he is currently in jail awaiting deportation because ‘Murica.  I’ve seen a lot of people comment on this story, some gleeful at her comeuppance, some who feel sorry for her.  Me? Shrug. I take no pleasure in what has to be a painful and terrifying experience for her husband and their children, but I don’t feel sorry for her.  He was very clear about his beliefs and vision, started his whole damned campaign with racial slurs about Mexican immigrants. This is an example of dangerous magical thinking; belief that no one can see you behind a clear shower curtain, that it’s ok and safe to wish harm on others; ok to strip rights, dignity, even humanity because other.

There were never any real plans offered by this President and his administration regarding how they would make things great. The closest they came to concrete plans involved who they were going to vilify, and how he could do whatever he wanted while keeping his supporters and increasing his net worth.  His net worth, not yours.  I’ve said this many times already, once you say it’s okay to dehumanize this group and that group, it’s a guarantee that more groups will be added to that list, and yours will surely be added sooner or later.  I hope no one reading this is surprised and hurt to discover this, but 45 and his cronies don’t see you as a human being.  You were a vote. If you voted for him, he’s done with you, if you didn’t, you never existed in the first place. Let’s go back to that disastrous bill, HurryUpandDieCare.  This is from a meeting on Thursday night, with a no holds barred attempts to squeeze votes out of those who thought it was still too generous a plan.  “Forget about the little shit.”  The little shit is you, me, and the woman from Indiana whose husband is sitting jail.

A little magical thinking might carry me through months of work on this MIP, enough to (hopefully) craft a cohesive and interesting story, maybe adding the tears of a baby dragon will get me through the querying process. It won’t get me published. Magical thinking got 45 and company into office, it won’t make them responsible, compassionate, or skilled–and it surely won’t protect us from the damage.

One of Those Days

Byron and Ramiro, by John Sonsini, 2008

Byron and Ramiro, by John Sonsini, 2008

Yesterday was just another one of those days.  You know the ones. Where you sit in kiddo’s specialologist’s office and they’re telling you news you don’t want to hear and their voice gets all tinny and small and you feel all tinny and small but part of your brain Must Keep Up Appearances so it engages your mouth and you try to sound like a Reasonable Adult Human Being by asking the right questions and taking notes as they tell you about two other specialologists that must now be added to The List of necessary ologists for said kiddo even though their words feel like a spray of pellets shooting holes in your tin self. Yeah, one of those days.

I haven’t actually read any news articles or watched any clips since leaving for the doctor yesterday.  This morning I scanned the headlines, and I didn’t miss much. Just another day with this administration, apparently gearing up to declare war on Iran, Mexico, China, and Australia (?!).  And, needless to say, continuing the war on the American People, specifically Democrats, women, people of color, Muslims, the wrong types of Christians, children, those who live in poverty, unions and union members, and anyone who mistakenly thinks Holocaust Remembrance Day and Black History Month aren’t about our Fearless Tweeter.  Did I miss anyone? I’m sure I did.

The other day I blogged about us, who “us” is, and the need to stop pretending that the supporters of our administration and these new policies aren’t part of us.  Indulge me today, while I talk about the GOP for the same reasons, just for a second. They aren’t going to save me, you, or anyone other than their own hides and bank accounts. Reasonable Republicans.  I believe that used to be a thing, much as I might have disagreed with them.  Now they don’t exist, not those in office, anyway.  Sure, a few make some noises here and there, statements mumbling disagreement, but ultimately, they’re staying right in line with our everything old is new again White Supremacist sanctioned policies.  Noises and mumbles don’t amount to more than a fart in a breeze when two of the horrific Cabinet picks were forced through despite the Democratic Senators’ boycott.  When there’s any one of them willing to support that horrific choice for Secretary of Education.  Thinkofthechildren my eye. When they ignore shady ties to Russia to clear Tillerson. When they support a well documented racist for Attorney General. When they quietly allow the firing of an acting Attorney General for putting the People and the Constitution above the administration. When they don’t say a word about the many active conflicts of interest. When suddenly Putin is someone to be admired, a role model. When legal and peaceful dissent and freedom of the press are overtly threatened.

What’s already occurred and occurring is horrific. I don’t have to read every word of every article every day to know this.  But I don’t get to ignore what’s going on in the country and world around me.  We may want to pretend we can just keep our heads down and it won’t effect us, but it does and will, in ways large and small.  Like imported goods being taxed so high we can’t afford fresh fruits and vegetables. Like losing healthcare. Like losing doctors to bans and deportations. Like losing research scientists for the same reasons. Like losing public schools. Like losing special education rights completely. Like more job losses because of hiring freezes, tech companies going to friendlier countries.  Like losing the right to practice whatever religion you choose. Or not. Like losing the right to vote because of increased gerrymandering. Like losing the right to choose, including situations of rape, the mother’s life at risk, and non-viable pregnancies.  Like losing the gains made in legalizing medical marijuana.  Like losing LGBTQ rights. Like losing all of our damned Allies in the world we share because they’ve been insulted and dismissed.  These are just a few of the very real, potential losses for all of us, without even looking at the more dramatic and yet suddenly also possible scenarios. The only question we have now is will this shitshow result in disaster or complete annihilation.

So, stop. Stop waiting for these imaginary ethical Republican senators and congresspeople to step up. I used to believe the next specialologist would have The Answer, maybe even The Solution, to my girl’s ever-increasing medical needs, but it became necessary to face reality and stop getting my hopes too high.  Still necessary to treat each issue as it arises, even necessary to hold a bit of hope in my back pocket, but for the sake of sanity and reasonable functioning, blind faith that everything will be ok and will go back to “normal” shortly is foolish.  As foolish as expecting the GOP to step up, or thinking our country hasn’t been fundamentally, irrevocably damaged.

The Nuttiest Part: aka This Isn’t Us

Nuts for Nuts

Nuts for Nuts

Peanuts for snacking, walnuts in pasta and baked goods, pignolis in pasta and cookies, hazelnuts in salads and cookies, cashews in asian noodle and rice dishes, nut butters–you get the idea.  I love the other kind of nuts too, those that are excellent for laughing with and sharing a beer.  You know where I don’t love nuts? My government; making unconstitutional decisions, ignoring courts and laws, stripping rights of citizens, stirring up aggressions and posturing against other nations. Also not fond of the nuttiness that punctuates those who are supporting our current government, certain despite all facts, evidence, and history, that subtracting from Them will add to You.

In the face of the embarrassing ugliness that posed as Executive Orders this week, many, many Americans have stood up and said no. We’ve spoken, marched, written, tweeted, boycotted, donated money, donated legal services, stood in solidarity.  Beautiful. The cry: “this isn’t us.”  It makes my intestines twist in unpleasant ways to say it but yes, it is. Not all of us, and I don’t believe (though I’m not sure) it’s the majority, but it’s a considerable number of us. It’s part of our history, alongside those who fought against women’s right to vote, for slavery, Japanese Internment camps, and Jim Crow laws.  It’s part of our present, alongside the school to prison pipeline, draconian drug sentencing laws, rampant gun violence, police brutality, racial profiling, marches and bills written to decimate women’s health care. It’s what allows some people–too many people–to claim they’re following God’s laws and are pro-life yet turn their backs on starving, brutalized refugees–adults, children, and babies–shut out people from other nations who helped keep us safe while we were bombing their nations of origin, and continue to wail about unborn babies while voting to take away health care from the babies and children already born. It’s what enabled and continues to enable so many to ally themselves with white supremacists and the KKK, opening the door for one to have an official seat on the National Security Council.

Yeah. It’s ugly, irrational, illogical, rips my fucking heart out, but it is part of U.S.  Saying it isn’t is what allowed the results of the 2016 election in the first place, “oh, he’ll never be elected, you shouldn’t take him seriously, good always wins.”  Saying it isn’t us is the first cousin of the cognitive dissonance that allows too many to say there were no racial problems and tensions in between our nation’s come-to-Jesus with Martin Luther King Jr (after, of course, his arrests, beatings, and assassination) and the election of Barack Obama.

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The other morning I stood on the terrace and looked out into the fog thinking this is it.  Not new, not shocking, but always hazy, proceed with caution.  Not anymore. These last few days have felt like one of those southern storms, where the rain is so hot and hard and heavy you can’t see a foot in front of you, and all the cars on the highway have to pull over.  Those generally only last a few minutes.  This?  We’ve entered monsoon season, but instead of rain, we’re being pelted by fear, hatred, and tyranny. What else to call it when the current administration decides it is above the law?

I’ve seen several memes and tweets from those on the right, saying Obama did the same thing to Iraqi immigrants in 2011 and no one marched then.  In fact, “45” even referenced this in a statement. Umm, no, not the same thing at all.  This policy has no roots in an actual threat against America, was implemented without proper legal forethought and counsel, no warning, no preparation, is literally tearing families apart, increases the likelihood of terrorist aggression, and is in fact putting our soldiers at risk.  Let’s not forget that not successful terrorist attack in the US is from one of those seven countries–and yet, oddly enough, countries that have been the source of terrorist attacks here aren’t on the list.  But shhh, no conflict of interest here, none at all. I’m sure the fact that 45 has business interests in those nations has absolutely nothing to do with it.  Trust him, he says so. I saw a meme saying those on the left want extensive background checks for gun ownership, but no vetting of immigrants. Untrue, there is an exhaustive vetting process in place. Another meme says something to the effect of “I wish those who cared about illegal immigrants cared as much about homeless veterans.”  I wish people who shared that meme understood that our current administration’s policies are actually harming veterans. Here and here. I certainly hope those liking and sharing that meme are offering assistance like money, food, or socks to the homeless vets we see on the street every day.

45 supporters, don’t be fooled. 45 doesn’t care about Muslims; whether they’re pious, lapsed, or extremist, he doesn’t believe he’s protecting us. He’s feeding your fears, giving you an enemy so you don’t notice your own freedoms disappearing. You’re right, this administration does have a plan, and that plan involves war.  War is profitable.  Not for you or me, but for those in power, that 1 %, fraction of 1%, that do just fine regardless of who holds the power.  And this administration differs from past Republican administrations because it wants a war on the American people, America itself.  This is what you’re supporting. 

I hope every person who supports our current administration understands “slippery slope” isn’t always a logical fallacy. If we’re ok with giving away the rights of one, or two, or three groups of citizens and legal permanent residents, we’re opening the door for more rights to be given away.  You may believe your gender, race, or religion is safe, but as the saying goes, we’ve seen this before.

This certainly, thankfully, isn’t all of us, but it doesn’t help any of us to pretend these beliefs, the people who support these evil and thoughtless politicians and policies, aren’t any of us. Good doesn’t magically triumph; it takes work, dedication, and education. This, right here and now, is when we have to declare a nut-free zone, to keep us all alive and healthy.

Do the Right–Wrong!

Because what else would have been the perfect gift for Mrs Fringe on Inauguration Day, 2017?

Because what else would have been the perfect gift for Mrs Fringe on Inauguration Day, 2017? Thank you!

I’ve had this thought circling in my head for the past few weeks.  I talked about it a bit with Nerd Child before he went back to school last week, and today it seemed appropriate for musing on the blog after 1 full week of Trump & Co in office.  Yeah, I know, this isn’t a mom-blog and I already talk an awful lot about my kiddos, but bear with me, please.

Husband and I have always tried to do our best.  We knew that wouldn’t always work out as intended, but still, parenting is a commitment we take seriously.  A commitment to our children, but also a commitment to society.  We do our best, and hopefully offer decent, kind, well-adjusted human beings who care about others, themselves (raising saints and martyrs was never our goal), and the world at large.  How’s that for overblown navel gazing?  And yeah, we want success for them. Success doesn’t have to mean a job making a bazillion dollars a year on Wall Street, but for us it means that in addition to doing something they feel good about, we wanted them to understand it’s important to be able to pay your bills, and do better than we have, a little more comfort, maybe even own a house.

But have we screwed them in the process?  I’m looking around, taking stock of the past week, who’s taken office, been nominated, being confirmed despite (because of) no experience, no compassion, conflicts of interest galore and long documented overt racism; running the country, deciding to rip apart the social contract we’ve been building and trying to improve for over two hundred years….  Sure, greed, corporations, and selfishness have long been valued in our society.  It isn’t brand new, the results of this election didn’t come from nowhere, regardless of how many want to pretend it has.  There has also long been room for success from those who actually want to contribute, work with others.

Remember?  One of the first things we all teach all children is the importance of sharing, waiting our turn.  Husband and I taught our kiddos to do the right thing because it’s right, not because they might get in trouble, not even because of an afterlife.  But because this life matters, and every life of every person matters.  Trite but true, at the end of the day, can you look in the mirror? This week has shown us a whole different world.  At first I typed new. A new world.  It isn’t though, is it?

Today happens to be International Holocaust Remembrance Day.  And today, Nikki Haley, the new US ambassador to the United Nations,  addressed the UN and said, “for those who don’t have our backs, we’re taking names.” Trump is signing executive orders to begin building That Ridiculous Wall (the one that still makes  zero sense), still discussing a registry for Muslims, will restrict incoming Muslim immigrants (unless they’re from Muslim countries his companies do business with), and is denying entry to Syrian refugees.  No, not new at all.   No wonder they’re so enamored of that fascist “America First” slogan.

And by the way, in case you’re thinking all of this is being done in a (misguided) attempt to actually protect American citizens, ha!  This is the sneak-peak proof that this administration and the GOP couldn’t care less how many citizens are left without adequate healthcare in this country.  Why let people know they still have a few days left to sign up for a year’s worth of care? Sure the ads were already in place and paid for, but, well, fuck ’em. I can’t address the beginning of the dismantling of women’s rights and health care in this country.  Not yet.

So yes, in with all the other worries and panicking I’m doing about medicine and health care and civil rights and ohmygodhehasthefuckingnuclearcodes, I’m worrying about my kiddos; if they are prepared for this next page in American history, where might makes right and sharing their cookies is a notion as quaint and outdated as teaching them to use a quill.

Much of me is overwhelmed right now, certain we have said goodbye to American freedoms, the true American values of equality, justice, social mobility, education, progress, and democracy. We haven’t always hit those marks, and there’s no question and no excuse– our “equality” hasn’t  been equal, but we have had gotten better.  Now I have to believe we didn’t do them a disservice when we taught our kids they have to be able to look in the mirror, and I have to hope the mirrors they look into are true and clear.