Category Archives: Politics

Billy the Kid

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Before I begin, here is your Monday Public Service Announcement:

Happy Monday. Have a great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I started working on a book of poetry about Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty—his birth name. I was still in the research stage when life happened, and I moved back to Kennewick, and became involved in other things. I still dream of going back to New Mexico, Fort Sumner, etc., and doing research, and writing the poems, but then, I’m a dreamer, eh?

In the meantime, someone in my critique group recommended a book last year, Coming Through Slaughter, a fictionalized biography of New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden and is partly set in Slaughter, Louisiana, by Michael Ondaatje. I enjoyed the book, so when I found The Collected Works of Billy the Kid also by Michael Ondaatje, I had to read it, too. And I was not disappointed!

There is not a great deal known about Billy, but there is some information out there, and Ondaatje did a marvelous job of using what little is known as a springboard for his poetry and prose. It reads like a journal, or maybe a better description is a collection of his (Billy’s) papers, what were found, often without beginning or ending. Some of the poems actually have titles, or at least attribution as to who wrote them, as “Miss Sallie Chisum” by Sallie Chisum describing Billy “As far as dress was concerned / he always looked as if / he had just stepped out of a bandbox.” She goes on to describe his clothing, finishing with, “he was the pink of politeness / and as courteous a little gentleman / as I ever met.” From what I’ve found about Billy in what little research I’ve accomplished, this was a fairly accurate description of him.

By many accounts I’ve read, Billy was a gentleman, at least where the ladies were concerned. He dressed well, he was polite, he was bi-lingual (English and Spanish) and possibly tri-lingual. There is some information out there he spoke Gaelic, probably learned at his mother’s knee.

If you’re looking for a good and plausible book about Billy, I highly recommend The Collected Works of Billy the Kid.  It’s great fun. If you’re looking for a scholarly account of the young man’s life, this isn’t for you. And yes, there is the conspiracy that Garrett shot the wrong man, claimed he was Billy, buried him, and collected the reward and that Billy once again escaped, made it to Mexico or someplace, lived a quiet life as a law-abiding citizen, married, and had a family, etc., etc., etc. Billy was a master at aliases and escapes, so this isn’t entirely unbelievable.

Oh, and in the interest of transparency, or just kinda interesting stuff, when Daddy was a youngster, he met a man who knew Pat Garret who is credited with killing Billy the Kid. We are closer to history than we sometimes realize.

My Friday

Those of you who know me, know I’m not really a morning person. Oh, I get up early enough, because when I wake up enough to answer the early morning calls of bladder and dog, I’m up. I try not to get up before 4am, but sometimes it’s earlier, and if I go back to bed, I just lie there for a couple of hours and I might as well be up and at the computer with my cuppa joe. Like this morning, Sunday. Yes, I’m up, but I’m not cognizant, I’m not ready for thinking, for talking, for doing much beyond watching something on the computer and maybe, if I’m lucky, getting a few words written on the virtual paper before me. Somewhere around 9am, I actually become functionally awake 😉

So, this past Friday, I signed up for a poetry workshop, that started at my time of 7am. It was something like 3 hours long, and very interesting. I actually got 4 poems written during that time. No, they are not ready to be abandoned, but they are good enough to warrant some editing and maybe submission. Then, later that afternoon, I attended my weekly workshop of prompts, and wrote two more poems, also pretty good first drafts. Aren’t you glad I don’t share all the poetry I write with you? Since 1 Jan this year, I’ve written 90. Boy Howdy, do I know how to have fun!!! 😉

How Many Days Until Mid-Term Elections?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You really think we’re going to have them? Nope, they ain’t gonna happen, my gentle families and friends. That’s why we’re in an undeclared-by-Congress war, so the Unnamed Person can claim an emergency, and take over and cancel elections, or have them with his goons manning polling places. Yep, we’re closer to history than we realize.

(Please, prove me wrong. Please, please, please.)

be happy, be well, be safe!

Preach it, Rev. Staceypants!

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Good morning! It is cold out (30F), and dark (6:30am), and I’ve already spent a couple of hours on poetry. My computer is playing soft, ambient music, Sammy the Bravest Dog, has been out and is now back on the bed, sleeping. Sometimes, he truly acts more like a cat than a dog, but I’ve promised not to tell his union representative 😉 After all, I did ask for a cat, and got him.

I am setting a new morning habit. I now get up, turn on my computer, and put four items on my playlist. This mornings were two of Ilia Malinan skating, one mildly political (the National Opera has pulled out of The Kennedy Center Memorial), and finishing with the hours long ambient music. I am also trying to limit my news, especially political news to two days a week—Mondays and Thursdays.

Why those two days, you may be wondering? Well, it’s easy. Those are the two mornings Countdown with Keith Olbermann is on. I admit, if I see something from David Reddish, I do tend to watch it, because a) he’s cute and b) he usually has some good snark to make me laugh.

I also watch not political news, and news not laden with American Politics. you know, fun stuff like Ukrainian winning, wars, revolutions, cats, volcanoes, Don Kim upcycling old jeans into designer bags, Quilt Like an Artist, and AI stories which don’t mean to be funny but I can’t help LOLOLOLing, because they are.

I am trying to get back to writing on a regular basis, and don’t need/want all the distractions of YouTube. Well, yes, I want them, but then I don’t write. Squirrel!! And as you may have gathered, writing is hard work.

I have resigned from my volunteer work, which was not an easy decision. I miss helping people, but let’s be honest, at my age, I ain’t as young as I used to was! At least that’s what my body keeps telling me;-) That, and it’s time to act my age—where’s the fun in that?

I also need to get back to reading. Yes, I spent a year reading very little. It’s so much easier to listen to the mindless AI stories. Incidentally, the SF/F ones, especially HFY are pretty entertaining. IF you like SF/F, give them a try. But, please, I beg of you, do not leave any comments or clicks on them. Don’t help them get better or make it harder for a human writer.

Speaking of AI, a friend sent me an interesting article on X, Footprints in the Sand: The House You Thought Was Emptyby @iruletheworldmo. Or maybe @iruletheworldmo just reposted it? I don’t know, but it is an interesting, and somewhat disconcerting if not downright scary, article on AI. My cousin pointed out to me that Yuval Noah Harari has been writing articles about this for some time. Anyhow, as my friend said when he sent it, it could be written by AI for all he knows. If you can’t open it, and want to read it, please let me know.

Oh, if you haven’t yet discovered Dr. Stacey Patton, you’re in for a treat. Especially her Sunday Sermons! Yes indeedy, this old Atheist is back in the pews yellin’ Amen! and Preach it Rev Staceypants! and anything else appropriate. I think it takes a modicum of courage to read Dr. Stacey’s columns, etc., because she is not dainty, diplomatic, or quiet. She yells it as she sees it and that’s got to be hard on some readers, especially those raised white and privileged. Google her. Check her out. She’s my kinda person!!!

I’ve now read this morning’s sermon, and finished this piece. It is now 7:30am, and the cold (31F) outside my window is black and white, in another 30 minutes or so, it will be in freezing color, but it’s o’cast, and no true sunlight, yet.

And here is my photo of the week. I took it out of my office window of an afternoon a few days ago. Those are Canada Geese in the sky, coming in for a landing.

Have a Marvelous Week, remember to be grateful you’re still looking down at the grass. Remember the words of our Dalai Lama that pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. And tell someone you love them this day.

Long Lost Martin Luther King, Jr. 

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Weather in the Tries:  Ooh, it looks like we’re in for a cold snap most of the week. Night lows down to 17, daytime highs in the low 30s. The cold will start Sunday, the day I’m leaving.  Y’all bundle up, hear??

Long Lost Martin Luther King, Jr. Speech:
   I subscribe to Jerry Coyne’s blog, Why Evolution is True. He puts out a prodigious number of posts—several a day. I love the first one of the day, The Hili Dialog best. Hili is a cat he met in Poland whose staff are Jerry’s Parents of Choice or his choice of Adopted Parents. Once in a while I read the others, or at least skim them. Last Monday, he had a long-lost speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. in it. Well worth the listen and read (the words scroll on the screen as he speaks). Recorded in 1962 and forgotten, until people were digging through New York State Museum’s audio recordings and came across this one on a reel-to-reel tape with a piece of masking tape used for a label. It said, “Martin Luther King, Jr., Emancipation Proclamation Speech 1962.”
   The speech is just shy of 26 minutes. There is a silence of a few seconds around the 15-minute mark, just keep reading, the speech resumes quickly. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Black History Month in February, than listening to one of our great orators talk about black history. I’m putting the URL here, in case the above link doesn’t work for some reason.
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0Jzqiqwo5A&t=1550s 
   To read the full story go to NPR. 
   Speaking of Black History Month, remember, you are, at a minimum, 4% Black African. According to the bigots, if you have a bucket of white paint and you add any amount of black, brown, red, yellow, or any other color, the paint is no longer pure white. It’s colored. There is not a human being alive today who is pure white, from Nick Fuentis to Ron DeSantis and everyone else. Even Donny J. Trump. 

The Root:
   For the month of February, consider subscribing to, and reading, The Root | Black News and Black Views with a Whole Lotta Attitude. Get a different perspective on the stories of the day. If you’re a movie buff or aficionado, you might be interested in this story, as well as some of the sub stories, Oscars 2023: Family of Emmett Till, Whoopi Goldberg React to Till Snub.
   I’m not asking you to agree with everything you read, but I am asking you to read it, at least one story, every day. The subscription is free, and the language is delightful. Remember this quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, “The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” Stretch your mind.

Miscellaneous news &c:
   By the time you read this, I will be on the Dark Side of the Mountains to visit my Elder Brother of Choice (EBOC). I’ll be there around 10 days, so this post may be a wee bit skinny, as will the next one. I will try to post the next one from over there, unless I can get it written and scheduled before I leave, which will be optimum as far as I’m concerned.

Photos of the Week:

Snow storm from last year, Allen’s Point, Bateman Island, across from my apartment
Also from last year February. I think these are Wilson’s Warblers. If I’m thinking wrongly, don’t hesitate to let me know.

Entertainment:
Books Read:  If I finish it, I review it:  https://lenoragood.blogspot.com   Have started the book for the Book Group and am abut 50% through it—Living the 1.5 Degree Lifestyle, Why Individual Climate Action Matters More than Ever —by Lloyd Alter. When I looked through the book, I noticed he had end notes, and you know how Auntie Lenora hates end notes. When I got to the first superscript number in the text, I went to the back, and oh, blessings upon Mr. Alter—or his publisher—they all seem to be bibliography or citation notes. Happy day! Auntie Lenora only needs one bookmark.

Movies/TV:
   Still wading through Babylon 5. The protagonists are, for the most part, members of Earth Force, the military arm of Planet Earth. Bab5 is based, albeit loosely, on the Navy. But they forgot one major thing, which would not have changed the story or outcome had they used it—the military Code of Conduct and the Rights of POWs. “Article V – When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number, and date of birth.” There’s a little bit more, but that’s the part Sheridan, the Coptain, seems to have forgotten. Or maybe he didn’t consider himself a POW? 

Sammy Brave Dog:
   Wow! My human is going to be gone for a long time, at least a couple of hours. And she’s leaving me at home with Housemate Dan. He gives me treats. And I can sleep in my human’s bed and don’t have to share. Oh. Wait. How will I stay warm without my human to snuggle? But she’ll be back. She always promises. And she always gives me my chores to do whenever she leaves the house. I have to keep the Humpfolumpuses off the furniture and the Hippopotamuses out of the parking slots. And in the summer, I have to keep the Giraffes and the Alligators in the main pond, not in ours. They hibernate in the winter, so I leave them alone. I do a very good job, too. Just ask anyone here how many times they’ve come home to find a hippopotamus sleeping in their parking slot, or a giraffe or an alligator splashing all the water out of their pond? They’ll always say it never happened. That’s because I’m so brave and such a good dog.

A “Grave Betrayal of Trust…” or, A (Mild) Rant on a Few of my Least Favorite beings

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Weather in the Tries: 

Looks like the next week or so are going to be cloudy, or partly cloudy, with a couple nights dropping below freezing, though most will be in the med-to upper 40s. The days will be in the low 60s all the way down to 50. Great walking weather. Great reading weather. Great weather to sit around and eat chocolate bon bons while drinking your favorite libation. 

A “Grave Betrayal of Trust…” or, A (Mild) Rant on these, a Few of my Least Favorite beings: (Sure, you can sing that title in the voice of Julie Andrews.) 

I can’t help but wonder if Justice Alito is so dense he doesn’t see the irony in his quote. I think he is.

He was whining about the leak of his draft to overturn Roe v. Wade. He said it was a “grave betrayal of trust by somebody, and it was a shock.” No sh*t, Sherlock! Do you know what else was a “grave betrayal of trust”? The fact that so many Justices lied to the American public and the Senate when they said that Roe v. Wade was “settled law,” was the precedent for the last fifty years, but suddenly they got religion, or revenge, and none of that made any difference. If you don’t want an abortion, you don’t need to have one, unless you were dating Herschel. It was your choice. Your body.

THAT was a “grave betrayal of trust,” and it is no wonder the public has lost so much of the trust in this illegitimate SCOTUS. And yes, I think they are Illegitimate. Not only have they raped the females of this country, but they have also broken one of the oldest and most revered of our laws. They have begun dismantling the wall between Church and State. They have approved the spending of taxpayer money for religious schools. They have approved of prayer in public schools and events.

Forty thousand comedians out of work, and we’ve got Alito et al. Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant, but Alito’s comment was too good to pass up.

Now, on to other irritating things in the news. E. Jean Carroll is suing the O.P. for defamation of character. She was a woman of some power, and liked, and probably got invites to parties he could only salivate over. But he, too, had power. And he saw/sees no reason not to use it. He keeps saying he didn’t rape her, “she’s not my type.” And I keep getting wrapped around the axle because I have heard NO ONE refute that. Rape is not about sex. It is not about type. It is about one thing and one thing only—power. The rapist has it, and the other person doesn’t. I say “other person” for a reason—rape is not just a female issue though most of it is. Rape goes on in prisons, and POW camps, and any time a person of power wants to use it. Look at Ukraine today. We hear about the women who are raped, but we don’t hear about the male prisoners who are raped. 

And just when you thought it was safe to go trick or treating, Home Depot has a very scary new ornament. A nine-and-a-half-foot tall animated immortal werewolf with animatronics. He’s all yours if you can afford him, and control him. I think he’s just what Patricia Briggs and Anne Bishop need for their respective yards. What do you think? Go here to see the cutie pie. Be sure and watch the short video. (Can’t help but wonder if Dick Wolf had something to do with this?????—listen to the howl.)

As you have by now figured out, I’m not a great fan of SCOTUS as a whole. SCOTUS individually, some; as a whole, none. So, when I saw that Ms Barrett is writing her memoir, and over 500 people have signed a petition to Penguin Random House asking they not publish it, my first thought was why not? True, if she’s as honest and forthcoming in her book that she was with the Senate, it could be the breakout fantasy novel of the year. But here’s the thing. I hate censorship. I see no use of it. I see no use of Ms. Barret, either. If her book is published, I won’t buy it. I also won’t check it out of the library. That’s how to censor her book. Do. Not. Buy. It.

And I won’t say anything about Ginni’s husband who is, single handedly and all by himself, trashing any good will Americans who love our country might still hold for our Judicial System. No, I won’t. Ginni’s husband deserves no mention in my pages. For that matter, neither does she.

On censorship, there are two forms I approve of: 1. Parents have the right and the responsibility to censor what their children read. They also have the right and responsibility to tell them why they do not want their children to read certain books until they are older. Or, to use an “adult” book as a teaching moment. Let them read it, then discuss it with them. It’s pretty hard to censor a high school kid’s reading or gaming without a few good reasons. I am so grateful my kids were grown and gone before all the gaming came about. They game now, but they’re no longer my responsibility 😉 and, 

2. National Security and Classified Documents. If you don’t have a need to know, and the ability to keep your mouth shut, you don’t get to see them. And you for sure don’t get to take them home with you at night and store them where they shouldn’t be stored. And even if you do have the power and right to declassify them, there are still prescribed steps to be taken. You can’t just wave your magic Happy Meal Box over them and say, “Abbra cadabra you’ll all declassed now,” and make it so. 

When I worked in the Military and The Boeing Company, I had clearances. When I worked at The Boeing Company, I was on the AWACS program, and that was lots of fun. I was a Technical Illustrator, and my uncle loved to hear what all I was doing, and it was great fun to tell him. Then, one day, I had a classified drawing to work on. When I saw my uncle a tad later and he asked what I’d been working on, I had to stop and think, was that the classified drawing, or was it that one? “Oh,” said I, “same old stuff.” 

Photos of the Week:

Because y’all have been so patient, here are four taken in the last few days. All right outside our apartment.

The Virginia Creeper is creeping. These are ‘new’ and not turned red, yet.
This is the mature, or red ones
The irrigation water, which is what feeds our ponds has been turned off, and the pipes blown for the winter, so there is no movement unless the wind is out there–or raindrops pock the water for rings.
The pond with reflections. Lots of red over on the far right. Not sure if it’s flower or Virginia Creeper.

Books I’ve read and reviewed are at: http://lenoragood.blogspot.com

My bad, I did not get my reviews written, and I have now added The Stroke of Winter by Wendy Web to the list. A great fun ghost story that takes place in a snowy winter. 

Movies/series I’ve watched and reviewed are at: https://rainydaysmovieoftheweek.blogspot.com

Several years ago, Favorite Daughter gave me the complete 13-episode series of Crusade, a spin-off from Babylon 5. I am watching it again, Just watched Disc 1, and I gotta say, Peter Woodward is as easy on the eyes now as he was then. For that matter, his dad was/is pretty easy on the eyes, too. (Just because I’m on a diet doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu!). I vaguely remember other people in the series. I think there’s a couple of guys besides Daniel Day Kim (also easy on the eyes) and a couple of female characters. Great fun, if you’re a fan of Space Opera. The gal who is a member of the Thieves Guild is marvelous (Carrie Dobro). Oh, I’d forgotten the humor. Lots of chuckles.

News: 

Jerry Lee Lewis died on Friday, 28 Oct 22. I don’t know what he was like as a person, but oh my, he was grand as a singer. He had energy and joy and shared it with any who were interested. (If there’s an afterlife, which I seriously doubt, I hope he got to take his piano with him, and that’s where I want to go.)

Earworms:

Great Balls of Fire and a Whole Lotta Shakin’

and here he is at Wembley. 

Quotes from “the Killer” himself (Jerry Lee Lewis):

“My momma always said, “You and Elvis are pretty good, but y’all ain’t no Chuck Berry.”

“I work to please my audience.”

“You’ve got to walk and talk with God to go to heaven… I have the devil in me! If I didn’t have, I’d be Christian!”

“I’m going to Hell, I’m going there playing the piano.”

And for a Special Halloween Treat from the house of my SOC n BOC* to me to YOU, I introduce Benedict the Sweet: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_XPHtTWm2s (*Sister/Brother of Choice). Can you tell they’re both retired engineers?

Sammy sends two barks, three pupkisses, and a whole lotta shakin’ to you all. Have a marvelous Halloween, and remember, you must eat all your candy tonight or the Great Pumpkin will claim it as his!!!

A “Grave Betrayal of Trust…” or, A (Mild) Rant on a Few of my Least Favorite beings

A “Grave Betrayal of Trust…” or, A (Mild) Rant on a Few of my Least Favorite beings

A Dangerous Place

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Weather in the Tries:

Oh, my goodness gracious. We’re headed back to triple digits Today and Tues, then 99 to 97 for the rest of the week. Can you spell H-O-T? But I can’t complain–for a couple of reasons: 1. nobody cares and 2. it’s my choice to live here 😉

A Dangerous Place to Be:

I read this article the other day and it got me to thinking, again, of an old idea of mine. 

We have nine, possibly ten (one source says the US Merchant Marine is, another says not. Who knows? Above my pay grade) uniformed services in the US. The Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, Coast Guard, Space Force, and National Guard under the Department of Defense. The US Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, the NASA Commissioned Officer Corps, and, I think, the US Merchant Marine. Remember that the next time you attend trivia night at your local watering hole. But don’t bet money on the Merchant Marines. They may well not be considered part of the Uniformed Services. Things change; I’m old.

I understand why we no longer have the draft, and I agree. However, I’ve long thought all citizens should put some time in for their country—”ask not what your country can do for you—ask, what you can do for your country.” From President John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s Inaugural Address, January 20, 1961 (it’s a short address, give it a read through).

Are you a pacifist, who would rather die than fight, great! No, seriously, great. It’s easier to fight than turn the other cheek. There are jobs for you, too. When I was stationed in Germany during the Viet Nam era, I worked with several young men who were registered Conscientious Objectors. They were all Medics. And some of the bravest young men I’ve ever had the honor of meeting. You can still do something for your country—save lives. I’d like to see the Public Health Service expanded so those who have reasons to not join the military can still put their time in for their country at the same pay scale and rank structure as the military.

Also, while in Germany, I learned that in the French Army (at that time, who knows what they do now) there was no such thing as a “4F” classification. If a young man wasn’t able to do anything but sit on a stool in the kitchen and peel potatoes for two years, then he sat on a stool in the kitchen and peeled potatoes for two years to help feed the rest of the troops. Got bone spurs on your feet? Sit on that stool and peel spuds! 

Would I like to see the draft reinstated? No. Well, I don’t think so, and yet… I would like to see something like the draft, but not as we used to have it. (Figuring that one out is also above my pay grade.) I think everyone should put in a minimum of two years for their country. Don’t want to join the military or the Merchant Marine? Join the Public Health Service. If you qualify for a commission, such as a RN, MD, DDS, etc., good on you. If you don’t qualify for that, go in as ‘enlisted’ and become a medic, technician, etc. Go where sent and expect to be sent to areas where there are few if any medical personnel. Help in ORs and ERs, inner cities and rural. While we’re at it, let’s set up some “free” college programs, payback in time. Four-year RN degree? Five years of service in Public Health afterward. (I think that’s the pay-back required of the military academies but won’t swear to that one.) 

A final quote from the same inaugural speech by President Kennedy:

“If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.”  Maybe a few of our so-called politicians should read and cogitage this, eh?

Another article just came across my screen from MedPageToday that says Americans Have No Right to Healthcare—It’s high time we change that. Indeed, it is! Click here for the article. It’s not long, and is in readable English, not Medicalese. And if you think Americans are entitled to health care as a right, contact your congresspeople, and if they disagree with you, vote the suckers out in November.

Photos of the Week:

Our apartments buildings each have a large, open entry with individual doors off the large hall. Housemate and I came home the other afternoon and these 6 ducks came out of our entry. I have no idea what they were doing, but they looked guilty as sin! Yes, there are 6 ducks, the first one is black and almost at the water. He looks more like a shadow than a duck.
I think this is a Muscovy duck, she’s really quite dark, almost black with a striking white head with red eye patch. Anyhow, she’s sitting on a nest. I haven’t seen how many eggs are in it, but I’m concerned that the babies won’t be big enough to fly south this winter. Perhaps the hoax, aka climate change, has her biological clock mucked up?

Books: Remember, if I finish a book, I review and post it to http://lenoragood.blogspot.com.

I’m in a fiction kinda mind these days. Am reading Six Gun Tarot, the first in a series by R. S. Belcher. Not sure how to classify it—cowboy noir fantasy weird twisted? It starts off in 1869 in Golgotha, Nevada. A friend gave me a bundle of ebooks, and book four of the series was in it. I started the book, and decided I wanted to read the series in order. I don’t usually have a problem coming into the middle of a series, and didn’t have a problem with this one, but the universe was enough different, I wanted in at the beginning, Six Gun Tarot. I’m about 1/3 of the way through and thoroughly enjoying it. So far it gets a strong recommendation. Here is an excerpt from GraphicAudio.

Earworm: some of JFKs likes in modern music taken from Return to Camelot

Mack the Knife, Bobby Darin

September Song from Knickerbocker Holiday

The Black Watch perform at the Whitehouse, 13 Nov 1963

Quotes of the week taken from The Best JFK Quotes of All Time

“The ignorance of one voter in a democracy impairs the security of all.” – John F. Kennedy

“Do not pray for easy lives, pray to be stronger men.” – John F. Kennedy

“The greater our knowledge increases the more our ignorance unfolds.” – John F. Kennedy

Sammy Brave Dog says he isn’t too sure of my likes in music. I found an hour plus concert of The HU. Sammy says he’s really glad I wear my new head set so he doesn’t have to listen. I think Housemate is probably happy I have new headset, too. It’s a gamer’s headset, and really pretty good but I can’t move the mic and when I talk on it, I can’t hear myself speak. It’s a weird sensation, but people at the other end of the phone or zoom meeting have no problem, so I guess I am talking 😉 Oh, and on the front of each ear piece is a long thread light that changes colors and reflects on the outer edge of my glasses lenses. Kinda neat. My new mouse also has a light, but it doesn’t change colors and is nice to find it in a hurry. (It sits on a pull out keyboard drawer in a shadow.)

The Great, The Marvelous, the Most Fantastic…

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As of 26 Sep 20, 204,499 Americans have died from Covid19. At 5 seconds to intone each name, and maybe ring a bell, it would take 11 days, 20 hours, 1 minute, 35 seconds to read and tally our loss. At least half would still be alive if people cared about their neighbors and wore masks and the CDC had not been politicized.

…Ruth Bader Ginsburg (aka the Notorious RBG) has died. Age, 87. You all know that. I was too upset to write anything last week, so I’ll write it now, a week after her death. She was, truly, all those things, and she will be sorely missed. Her death may, at this time, bring about the beginning of the end of our country as we know it.

This is an opinion piece. But, what the heck, it’s my blog, so I can write my opinion. (You may counter in the comment section.)

It didn’t take long for the Unholy Swamp Triune to come out and say that they don’t give a rat’s hind end what the American people want, they’re hell-bent-for-leather to name and confirm, a new Supreme before the election. And she’s going to be a “Right to Lifer.” Rules and precedent be damned! Almost three out of four Americans support a woman’s right to control her body. They Unholy Ones don’t. They want to go back in time to the wonderful fiction of Father Knows Best that only existed on television, not in actuality.

And therein lies my angst. Oh, not that they will cheat, that’s a given, but how they have perverted the term “Pro Life/Right to Life.” For the sake of this discussion, I am going to make Right to Life and Pro-Life mean the same thing. These people, all good members of their faith, are NOT Pro Life. They are Pro Birth and Anti-Woman. They want to take all rights away from women, especially where her reproductive life is concerned, because they don’t think women are intelligent enough to think things through. You know, hormones rage and emotions swing, and they have power given by their patriarchal god to rule women and by their god, they’re gonna! After all, if they can keep women pregnant and at home, they won’t take a job from another testosterone poisoned male. And it’s easier to blame a woman than keep their trousers zipped.

I won’t go so far as to say NONE of these Right to Lifers are, but I’ve only met one, and that was years ago, and she put her money where her mouth was! She went to her lawyer, paid to have the papers drawn up, then went to the abortion clinic, talked to the manager in charge, explained what she wanted, and received permission to wait inside and talk to the women seeking treatment. She explained who she was and said if they would carry the baby to term, she would pay all pre-natal costs, delivery costs, etc., and adopt the baby. She showed them the papers, and letters of recommendation that she would make a good mother. She didn’t have any takers, but no one complained to management about her being there. She never adopted (she was single and at that time single women adopting was frowned upon, after all, a baby needs a daddy) but she did take in teens as a foster mother.

Now, I’m Pro Choice or, if you prefer, Pro Life. To me, they are the same thing. Yes, really. The same. I know women who have had abortions, and none chose that option lightly. There were medical reasons, financial reasons, real and solid reasons. Because they had a medical procedure in a safe and sterile environment, many went on to later raise, love, and care for healthy families.

They took care of themselves. They were Pro Life. They made a difficult decision and have lived with it. But they still live. I don’t know any who had an abortion because they got ‘knocked up’ at an inconvenient time.

My mini quilt, Walking the Red Road. (It really is square, the caera wonked it.)

Ladies and Gentlemen, if you don’t want an abortion, then by all means, don’t have one! If your god says it’s wrong to have an abortion, then don’t have one. But the face of your god is not the face of every other woman’s god. And this is NOT a religious country, it is a secular country founded to remain secular with a separation between Church and State. Remember, the world cannot support our current population, and add into that Climate Change, rising seas, and wildfires….

If you are going to vote as a Right to Lifer, then, please, vote for all that entails—good pre- and post-natal care for the mother, good medical and dental coverage for the child until an adult, enough money to have the necessities of life—shelter, food, clothing, education, etc, for that child until s/he is an adult. Don’t say you’re Pro Life when you really only want the woman to have the baby and you don’t care to help out after. That’s not Pro Life. That’s Pro Birth.

Again, I say, if you don’t want an abortion, please, I beg you, don’t have one! But don’t try to force your morality on others, for one day you may be judged by your morality as lived and thought and held in your heart, and you may not like it. One day, these words may appear on your wall, Mene, mene tekel upharsin.

Entertainment:

TCM: I have long said I’d go with any cable company that would let me choose 10 channels and charge me appropriately — Spectrum did. I now have, among other channels, Turner Classic Movies, and on Saturday night I turned it on just as the credits finished for The Red Shoes. The movie came out in 1948, I probably saw it sometime between 1950-1955. It ranked right up there with An Affair to Remember and The Quiet Man in my all-time most loved movies. I’ve seen the latter two several times, sometimes whole movies, usually bits, parts, and pieces. Saturday is the first time I remember seeing The Red Shoes in a reaaaalllllly long time—like since the first time I saw it. Yes, it’s a romantic drama, and I loved it even more now, as an adult, than I did as a kid of 10 or so. I remembered my favorite part, if not exactly the words, the intent. He: Why do you dance? She: Why do you live? I also remember sitting in the theater when it ended thinking that I was a big girl and big girls don’t cry. Well, I didn’t sob out loud. Do I get points for that? Saturday, I sat on my couch and decided it’s perfectly fine for an old Auntie to cry/sniff/sob/tear. I did laugh at the two white males discussing the ending after the end. It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t in the studio, or one might be walking funny now. He thought she was somehow weak. Both of them missed what, to me, was so blatantly obvious—she felt pressured to choose between the love of her life, her husband and the love of her living, dancing. It was obvious to the men, of course, that she should choose between marriage and family or singledom and career. How dare she want both? Why, that was/is a privilege reserved for men. /meow/ Not a HEA movie, but, if you get the chance to see it, well worth the 2 hours 13 minutes of your time to watch it. Some absolutely gorgeous ballet! It’s available to rent on Amazon Prime.

Amazon Prime:  

IMDB has free (with commercials) tv series. I started watching the old Banacek series, again. Loved that show. We’ll see if it holds up.

Books: 

For any books I may have finished and reviewed and mayhaps a bit of snark, see Rainy Day Reads Who? Me? Snark? Bwahahahaha! 

CORRECTION: Last week I said I had Wyrds by Weld Champneys on my bed to read, I hang my head in unabashed shame, the title is Wirds, and it has now moved to my bedside table to be read randomly just before I turn out the light. A delightful book of poetic humor, review is on my site above. 

Wearing a mask is a proven method to help slow down the spread of Covid19. Please, wear your mask. And wear it properly—keep it over your nose! Your Auntie and your Granny appreciate your thoughtfulness. However, when you come next week for a fresh cuppa and homemade biscotti, we’ll be properly socially distanced so you may remove your mask at that time. Honest. Trust me.

Notorious RBG, We Miss You!

Auntie Lenora

The “Red Road” is a metaphor for living a spiritual way of life. Oglala Sioux medicine man and holy man, Black Elk, spoke of the all the people on the red road as being one interconnected circle of people that made a sacred hoop. Only you can walk your journey, but many are on the road. https://www.spirithorsenation.org/the-red-road

If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing with others.

Thank you. Auntie Lenora

How has the Pandemic affected you?

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Happy Labor Day. Enjoy the outdoors. But please, enjoy it responsibly.

As you probably know, I follow the blog, Why Evolution Is True by Jerry Coyne. A while back he published a post “Discussion: psychological effects of the pandemic” which I found to be almost, but not totally, how it has affected me. Instead of joining in his discussion, I decided to write my own. And hope that you, Gentle Reader, will consider posting in the comment section how it has, or has not, affected you.

Like Jerry, I too, am more peevish. Peevish about little things I would normally just laugh off. Like people who don’t wear masks. I have a recently discovered underlying health issue, on top of being an old fartess which is enough in my mind, and when I walk Sammy Brave Dog, I am the only one outside wearing a mask, as well as other items of clothing. No one else wears one, which wouldn’t be so bad, but they also don’t socially distance. Perhaps they have no idea how far 6′ is? and of course, they often wish to stop and chat, as do I. One person has informed me she has health issues and can’t wear a mask, and since by knowing what her issue is, I can’t cure her, I haven’t asked. But I am curious what health issues preclude the wearing of a mask. I would think the wearing of a mask would help keep them safer, not make them sicker. But, what do I know?

But the thing that gets my Peeve the most is the lack of human touch. I miss shaking hands, giving/receiving hugs from friends I haven’t seen in a while, or people who really need the touch. (Like me). Had an appointment with a longtime friend and advisor yesterday. For years we started our meetings with a handshake and ended with a hug. Yesterday we maintained our distance and didn’t even bump elbows. We both lamented the loss, but agreed it is the safe way to be. For now. I have read several articles in the past that stated humans need/require a minimum number of touches daily (I think the average number was 15) to maintain good mental health. Unless we’re in a committed relationship, or taking undo chances, we ain’t getting ‘em. It will be interesting to see how we come out of this, eh?

And the inability to comfort, with hugs, the bereaved who have lost loved ones during the pandemic. So many people have had to have private funerals with few, if any, mourners. Funerals are a way for all of us to say good-bye, and grieve our loss at the finality of death. At a time when closeness is called for, no, it is screamed for, it is denied for the greater good. I am not arguing against it, I understand it, and agree/approve it. But that doesn’t lessen the hurt.

Reading. Now reading is something I’ve done for years, I’d rather read than eat (or read AND eat—now that is Heaven!), and I’ve always been an eclectic reader. My reading habit is now different. I have become the Queen of Put-it-down-before-it’s-finished. In the past, if I started a book, I’d usually finish it. Not now. Too many books, too few years left. If the book is a downer, I don’t finish. If it’s an adrenaline gusher, I don’t finish. If it’s something that requires concentration (nonfiction), I probably won’t start it. I love poetry, and that has been my salvation. I have discovered many new-to-me poets for which I shall remain grateful until my final day. And I’m writing more. Fiction, not so much, but poetry, yes joh yes. And my weekly blog. (I am in awe of how often Jerry Coyne posts! I consider myself fortunate to post one a week.)

Are you taking any online courses you wouldn’t normally take? What? Why? I took some webinars on podcasting. Learned a lot. And then, I started working on podcasts, only to discover I not only have allergies but I also have a low-grade asthma, both of which adversely affect my voice—or lack thereof. No podcasts, just the now and then Spoken Word on my website. Hopefully those will bring you a smile, if not an outright chuckle. 

So, yes, I understand, relate, and empathize with people who have been adversely affected. As a writer, a reader, and a quilter, all of which are fairly solitary hobbies, the pandemic hasn’t affected me that much, but it has affected me. I am no longer able to meet “the group” for happy hour once a month to eat, drink, and make merry, or book group discussion once a month, or go walking with a stop in a coffee shop to sip and write and or people watch. As much of a “hermit” as I sort of am, I’m a social hermit. And being told I can’t socialize irritates the hell out of me, even though I totally understand and agree with and support it.

What I want for social distancing: (Sea gulls, probably Western Gull and Herring Gull)

What we’ve got for social distancing: (Eurasian Collared-Dove)

Enough of my rantings. What about yours? Let it all out in the comment section below. You’ll feel better. Honest. Trust me.

Entertainment:

Netflix: Lucifer Oh, Auntie Lenora is grumbling! Season 5 of Lucifer premiered the other night, and I settled in to watch all 16 episodes over a two-plus week period, only to discover those sneaky Devils at Netflix released it in two parts. Season 5A and (eventually, at some date to be known at some time in the future) Season 5B, 8 episodes each. Talk about feeling peevish!

A Thousand Goodnights. I’m still enjoying this family drama. It’s slow, easy, and fun. And the scenery is gorgeous. It’s rated Teen, but I can’t think of a teen I’ve ever been or known who would enjoy it as much as the adults. No action, no martial arts, no heavy metal rock n roll. Just a good family drama. Here’s a great review I can’t quibble with: Dramas with a Side of Kimchi — rather like the blog title, too.

Amazon Prime: Wycliff. Did I say something in an earlier post about the endings being chopped? Well, Season 5 has no endings, at least the first few episodes, instead they’ve gone into the long, continuing story, and it’s becoming a bit too much of a soap opera for me. I’ve decided I’m not watching any more. Besides, it was becoming more and more difficult to suspend my disbelief.

Books: 

See Rainy Day Reads for book reviews. and mayhaps a bit of snark. Who? Me? Snark? Bwahahahaha!

This is not a book, but a Brag. Three of my friends and I have poems published in the current issue of Quill and Parchment—Jim Thielman, Mark Fleisher, and Jim Bumgarner. The two Jims and I are members of The Tarweed Poets, and hope to have a book of our poetry out in time for the December Holidays, the working title is Three Tarweeds Speak. Please keep the book in mind for your Winter Gifts. And rest assured, I’ll remind you when it’s available.Are you a Red, White, and Blue Patriot? Show it! Wear your mask. Show you care for your country, your family, your friends, your neighbors, your dog, your cat, even the birds in your yard. And y’all come back next week, same bird time, same bird channel. The coffee is always on, the biscotti are home made, and we’ve always got time for a coffee break and a visit. (And, we’ll be properly socially distanced, so you may remove your mask.) (And I promise, no birdseed in the biscotti.)

Auntie Lenora

“Good Evening Sir or Madame, whichever you prefer…

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“… this is your friendly political pollster calling. Your opinion matters…”

How many times have you been called by a political pollster? Fifty? Five? Zero? Yeah, me, too. Well, not quite, I was called once, and answered the questions, but I doubt my answers were counted. The pollster was, obviously, calling for a particular person, one I was voting against, and my answers showed my true colors, just as his questions showed his. He even tried to get me to change my mind. 

At some point, I began getting online polls from Civiqs.com. I’ve watched them grow through the years. When I’ve contacted them with questions, they’ve always answered and I like to think my emails helped them make the decision to go public with their results. 

Their home page is https://civiqs.com and if you’d like to get on their list to take the surveys, go to https://civiqs.com/join-in to sign up, or take the current survey. There are usually about five clear questions, and all are multiple choice. Takes about a minute (or less) to take a survey and submit. I don’t think I’ve ever had more than one survey a week, if that.

Their graphs are easily understood, and if you go to the individual page, they’re broken down by all sorts of interesting groups and subgroups. Don’t just look at the graphs on the survey results page and think you understand them. You don’t. The colors are not party colors but are explained inside once you click on the graph of interest.

I’m rather jaded against most online polls I’ve seen. I fill many of them out, and submit my responses, but the last question is always a variation on the theme of how much money am I willing to give? None (beyond my monthly donation). I know they don’t pay attention because I get follow-ups wanting to know why, when I was personally asked Politician, did I not fill out the questionnaire? Uh, folks, I did, but you don’t care about my answers, you only care about my wallet. And now they want me to endorse their candidate. Uh, what good is my endorsement? Oh. Yeah. I have to PAY in order to endorse one. Yeah. Right.  I have NEVER been asked for money by Civiqs. Never. Ever.

Tashiko Akuma Pestini when I asked her a political question in years gone by. Her response, “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, don’t ask such silly questions. Is there food in my dish yet?”

******** FOR SALE********

If anyone in the Richland/Kennewick/Pasco WA area is interested, I have an “almost new” Twin XL box spring, mattress, Hollywood frame, tailored bed skirt (ie, not frilly), mattress pad, two sheet sets, and an electric blanket for sale — all for $150.00. Quite seriously, I doubt the bed has been slept on a total of 6 months. Probably closer to 3. Anyhow, let me know if you’re interested.

*******

Entertainment:

Netflix: Joy of Joys, Lucifer is back, and so far, I’ve been able to hold to the one episode per night. Not sure what happened, they had plenty of time to write and tape this final series, but it seems very loosey goosey to me. They’re all over the place. Still, they did seem to finally remember how to tighten the scripts and story lines. And, joy of joys, Netflix is NOT ending the series at the end of Season Five, they are carrying it over to a Season Six. Oh, for a devilish good time…

A Thousand Goodnights is rated Teen, but seems more Family, to me. It’s a slow, beautiful drama from Taiwan, and the scenery is worth it, if nothing else. I’ve watched two of the ten episodes about two young women, sisters, who are close to each other, and coming of age. The older was adopted. There is humor in it, and I’m pretty sure romance is waiting stage right. I think it is great fun to watch movies/tv from other countries, other cultures, just to do some armchair traveling. No mask required.

Amazon Prime: Still watching Wycliff. I’m now into season four. Don’t know if it’s cutting, or the way the stories have been written, but the end seems chopped in just about all episodes. We find out who done it, but not really the why. It’s like all of a sudden the writer/director realized they were late for their anniversary dinner and had to run. ‘Bye. Or, perchance I’m missing something at the beginning? Then again, it could be a culture difference between British police procedurals and American ones?

Books: Into Gothic Novels? Just read six (condensed). See Rainy Day Reads for reviews. and a bit of snark. I know, you’re surprised that I’d write snark. Of course there had to be snark, because I haven’t read a gothic novel in so many years I can’t remember. but these were actually kind of fun in the Time of Covid19.

Show your patriotism and your love; wear your mask. Show you care for your family, your friends, your neighbors, your dog, your cat, even your pollster. And y’all come back next week, same cat time, same cat channel. The coffee is always on, the biscotti are home made, and we’ve always got time for a coffee break and a visit. (And, we’ll be properly socially distanced, so you may remove your mask.)

Auntie Lenora

Free, White, and…Apologetic

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“Since culture is intrinsic, it cannot simply be discounted. If it denies and distorts us, then we must change it … “—Eleanor Wilner, Exchange: Meghan O’Rourke, J. Allyn Rosser & Eleanor Wilner on “Women’s Poetry”

Like many of you, dear and Gentle Readers, I grew up with White Privilege before there even was such a term. It was something that was just there, my culture. The ‘N’ word was commonplace in my house, as well as various and sundry other slurs for people who were classified as ‘different’ than us—different color, different religion, different language—it didn’t matter. And it was normal. For me, for my family, to talk like that.

I was fortunate to attend an elementary school where the student body was quite diverse, and I counted as, and socialized with, friends who were Japanese and Chinese, African, Gypsy, and who knows what else. I think attending that school may have helped in the de-education process of my upbringing.

What really de- or re-educated me was the Women’s Army Corps. I had adulted by the time I enlisted (September 1965) and could legally drink and vote in any state in which I lived and was registered. While standing in the chow line and gossiping with fellow Basic Trainees, I made the remark about being ‘free, white, and twenty-one.’ I’d heard it all my life. I grew up saying it. Nobody ever said anything about it, and to be honest, I never thought about it. Well, one of my neighbors put on her hob-nailed (verbal) boots and proceeded to re-educate me. Right then. Right there. 

I have vague recollections of just looking at her as she proceeded to tromp all over me (she was white, by the way), and when she finished, I continued to just look at her for what seemed like a long time, was probably a few seconds. And only her. I’m not sure I was aware of the other few hundred women in line with us. I looked at her and then said, “You’re right. I’ve been saying it forever, and never thought about it. Thank you for explaining.” She was right. It was a racial slur. I was white, neither my ancestors or I were never owned, I was over twenty-one, and could do whatever I wanted. It was a saying that went back to slave days. I don’t think I’ve said it since. But that’s when I began to pay a tad more attention to what I was saying, the unthinking things I learned from my family. Boy Howdy! There were a bunch. That’s not to say it was an overnight re-education, but it was the start, and I’m still working on it. But I’m better. I think.

For those who are curious, I’m around 80% “white” European, 16% “red” Native American, and 3-5% “black” African. In other words, I’m a person of color. Pale and yellow though I may be. I guarantee you; my family would not be happy taking a DNA test in this day and age. And if you stand me next to most Asians, I am actually as “yellow” or more so. (My family was much more “white” than I.) There’s a good possibility there is some Mongolian and or Turkish blood in me, too.

So why am I telling you all this? Because of Eleanor Wilner’s words, “Since culture is intrinsic, it cannot simply be discounted. If it denies and distorts us, then we must change it…” She was speaking about poets and poetry, and I am a poet, but I think she was also speaking about living in a human society. We are products of our upbringing, our culture, our nurturing. But once we’ve adulted, we have a responsibility to re-examine those values with which we were raised, and those that are good, to keep; those that need tweaking or replacing with something better, we need to tweak or replace. It is not enough to say, “I was raised that way” which is tantamount to saying, “I was just following orders” which has repeatedly been struck down through legal channels several times. You can’t change how you were raised, but you can change how you think and act today. You can’t control the external factors around you, but you can control how you react to them. No matter what your age, you can, and perhaps should, learn new tricks.

See, even an old Pelican can learn to dabble like a Canada goose 😉 Fortunately, he’s dabbling for fish; the geese are searching for salad.

I promise, next week’s post won’t be so serious. Honest. Trust me.

Have a great week. Remember to laugh often and loud, learn a new song—try out for a Zoom choir, dance like you’re the sticks on a huge drum, and be sure to stop by again—same goose time, same goose channel. The coffee’s hot, the biscotti are homemade, and we always have time for a short break. Stay safe, stay healthy, and care for and love one another—because one another is all we’ve really got.

Auntie Lenora

(Love Means) You Never Have To Say You’re Sorry

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Do you remember that song? The movie (Love Story) from whence it came? Personally, I found the song a real turn-off and never watched the movie, or read the book, because of that one phrase. To me, Love for another person means being able to say you’re sorry. If you can’t apologize to someone else, someone you love, it means you’re in love— with yourself, not the other person.

Well. I’m apologizing. Or perhaps I’m explaining. Or a bit of both? (Is there a rationale in here?)

There was a tv series that ran from 2005 – 2012 and I don’t think I missed an episode. I truly enjoyed the cast, the stories (well most of them), and the humor. When I moved back to the Tri Cities, I opted to get an antenna v. cable, and lo & behold The Closer  was running on one of the antenna channels. Every day. Two back to back episodes seven days a week. Yeee Haw!

I’m pleased to say, it has held up well. Too well. Watching one episode a week was considerably different than watching two episodes a night, seven nights a week. Perhaps I’ve been sensitized by Black Lives Matter, which I support, but suddenly, what used to be humorous—the small, southern Brenda Leigh Johnson dealing with big bad guys (of any color)—became all too real. Where it had been humorous watching her set the white boy up to get his come-uppance in a Mexican jail for raping and killing a Mexican girl in LA; where it was pure Karma seeing her send the Mexican drug cartel cop to jail under a false name and knowing there was a ‘hit’ out for that name that he paid for; where it was a gotcha moment when she supported the gang-banger in getting his by his brother gang members; well, all of that was violence at the hands of the police. All of it was taking the law—arrest, trial, sentence—into her own hands. 

It wasn’t funny anymore. She became all the Derek Chauvins, by all the names they go by, she was every cop who ever killed an unarmed man, woman, or child whether deliberately or by mistake, or just because he thought he could get away with it. She was the cop who deprived people of their constitutional rights in the name of justice. 

So, I apologize for touting the show for so long as funny. My eyes did not see, my ears did not hear. I no longer think it’s funny. Yes, old fartesses can learn new things. And I thank Black Lives Matter for helping to open my eyes.

I still dislike that song; however, if you’ve never heard it, or can’t remember it, or want to hear it one more time for your weekly Zoom karaoke class, here it is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=APMHp9sZyME

And here is the Richland, Washington All Gull Choir singing—Big Gulls Don’t Cry. Unfortunately, I was too far away, and my recording wasn’t all that good, so here’s Fergie singing her own rendition. It’s ok, but not as good as the All Gull Choir. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agrXgrAgQ0U

Have a great week. Remember to laugh often and loud, sing a new song—try out for a Zoom choir, dance like you’re Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers in a closed rehearsal, and be sure to stop by again—same gull time, same gull channel. The coffee’s hot, the biscotti are homemade, and we always have time for a short break. Stay safe, stay healthy, and care for and love one another—because one another is all we’ve really got.