AS THE WORLD TURNS

     Ah, if only the world could turn like the soap opera, always solving each issue even as the next one pops up. Cliff hanging problems are left hanging but for a short time, enough for a season or a fraction of one, but always available to refresh numbers and stats. Pure manipulation in a benign manner, as we all know that this is not real.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, take your pick, we live in a real world where manipulation is not so benign, and indeed, is too often, malevolent in intention and activation. The manipulators often go unpunished, unfazed by their unveiling, the awareness of what they have done just waved away, a mere blip on the road to where they aim to get. Not even a bump is felt as their wheels ride over it.

This soap operatic world of ours is often so bizarre that one has to laugh, even as the tears of frustration and anger roll down the face. Time and again we are presented with pictures of figures running for office accompanied by questionable people. From Trump's pictures with Neo Nazi and White Supremacist figures or women who accuse him of molestation, to Loeffler and her pet Neo Nazi former Klansman - all the while denying they even know the person. Even when called on these glaring bleeps in their campaign life and political beliefs, they wave it off, knowing that no one will care enough to follow up.

Surely the world needs an application of WD40 to its axle and axis if it is to continue to turn, a good turning process, one which keeps us on track, rather than going awry and askew. However, it seems that we do not get and will not get this oil treatment until too late - or maybe it already is. The world does keep on turning and our cliffhangers are not solved so benevolently and promptly as the ones on TV. Would that the population at large would pay as much attention to real life as they do to the TV.

Yet maybe there is a glimmer of hope to be seen if one looks carefully. More than 2.5 million Georgians have voted already in the special Senatorial run off election. The GOP is running scared, bending over backwards, delving  deep into fake sewage in their running scared state of being. Trump joins in wholeheartedly as false non-existent siblings are newly born, false accusations tweeted in insane postings, tired accusations, are repeated ad infinitum ad nauseum, but their madness continues. The biggest threat they feel they have is the one of uh-oh, here comes socialism - this even as the government sends out stimulus checks - socialism in reality. Nor do I sees anyone rejecting those checks on political principles!! Nor do I see the fatcat huge agricultural companies who squashed so many independent farmers turning down the huge subsidies they get from the government. Uh-oh again, for this is socialism in practice yet no one seems to object as they bank those checks.

The world turns round and round, spinning away, almost uselessly at times, as the only thing that changes is actually nothing. The corruption continues. The shocks come at so quick a rate that they lose their impact. The heroic to be trusted Secret Service is found to be contaminated as well by political beliefs and needed to be changed as Biden comes into office. Why? For there was deep tainting of some agents who worked political stances into their responsibilities. With emotions so crazed and electric who knows what they might have done - or not. Tarnished heroes, yet another blackening of a legend of America.

The squeaks grow longer and more agonizing. A hospital worker deliberately, mind you, took out enough vials to inject 500 people, spoiling them, even as the program itself is so slow as to cause one to wonder if the world is turning at all. Or perhaps going in the wrong direction! The amounts of doses are too few, the distribution too slow, the availability simply not there, the planning never truly existed, and systems were never truly thought out as to infrastructure and implementation. So phone systems crash within minutes, people are confused and becoming frantic, and all they get is a "Be patient. Call next week."

All the while, our so not esteemed leader is off to golf every damned day. Swinging that skinny stick which accomplishes nothing for the country, nothing to set the world back on its true axis. Nothing but harm to us, to the people of this country. Instead of cooperation with nations of the world, we set up ironic competitions, putting us at odds with each other at a time when cooperation is so urgently needed.

Brothers and sisters, for under the skin we are all that, we need to work together to put this world back on its proper spin. It will take much hard work, much swallowing of pride, even shame, if we are to do this and do it properly. Can we put aside the soap opera attitudes long enough to do the job? Can we ever relearn the truth, that it matters, that it counts, that it always will be revealed? Can we learn once again that corruption is not good for us. That cronyism, nepotism are poisonous to the system of government of a country? 

We have much to learn and much heaving to get the world to spin properly. Roll up the sleeves, settle down to hard work and we will achieve. We can do this. If we but try. If we but remember when we were once a country united with differing opinions but not crazed enough to slit our neighbor's throat. Turn down the noise and settle down to work. Not rhetoric.

 

AW, C'MON!

      Two days. Just two days more. That was the prevailing attitude yesterday as people spoke of ending this horrible year. Honestly, to me it seems akin to the magical thinking of toddlers. If one covers the eyes, then one disappears. Not seeing the other person in the game means not being seen either. So they think and that is fine for toddlers, kind of like the thinking of our illegitimate President, but a mite more mature!

However, we are supposed to be grownups, are we not? We are supposed to remember to confront reality, accept the way it is and then work from there. Instead, though, we have the magical thinking that belongs in a fairy tale setting, a happily ever after ending, despite all the clues pointing to a different ever after. Turning that damned calendar page will neither magically nor instantly change the environment, reduce the illness killing off people all over the world, over 326,000 as of yesterday right here in America.

I hate to be a killjoy, and I am just as afraid of the virus as anyone else, hiding, basically, from it since March, but truth is truth. The young do not die we are told and yet how many stories do we read of the young dying. We are getting a handle on it, we are being told, but it seems to me that the handle is not working very well, is it? Example par excellence? Here in Florida, where we appeared to be doomed to be afflicted by the worst politicians ever, we had an instantaneous breakdown of the process to register for an appointment if one were 65 and over. Finally, call back next week was the final answer. That was not the answer Jeopardy would have accepted!! Nor will we! How stupid can one be when setting up an inadequate system when , especially in Florida, where the over 65 population is enormous!! A turn of the calendar page will not cure that incompetence! Nor in the rest of the country.

Perhaps there will be better things after the turn of the calendar page on the 20th of January. Biden has already appointed three leaders to the pandemic issue, trying to get a grasp on it ASAP. Sooooo much better than somebody else we know! But we must remember that there is no magic here. It will take a long, hard, and dangerous slog to get through this virus and its apparently oncoming relatives.

When will we be able to say that we have indeed fought off, thrown off, the awful vibes of 2020? Not as long as people like Trump are elected to office. The man is nuts. Pure and simple. Now he has fallen into an even deeper hole of fantasy by accusing the poor guy from Georgia of having a brother who apparently works for the Chinese, is a spy for them. That sounds terrible, right? One itsy bitsy teeny tiny problem, but we won't let that interfere with the idiocy of Trump's camp who will accept this statement whole hog, will we? There is NO brother!! But never let fact or truth get in the way of fantastical accusations! Trump speaketh!!

Nor will January 1, 2021, change the attitude of so many re 'others'. Here is my theory about the hate epidemic that has swept the world. We have allowed the noisy nonthinkers to prevail with and via their noise. Look around and one can see groups of mixed kids and people, Black, White, Brown, Red, whatever and all in-between. Here in the South one sees interracial couples and families all the time and no one gives it a second thought or glance or even a first one. 

So what is the problem? US. We have allowed all the squeaky wheels, the ones with no working intellectual brain cells, the ones with axes to grind, the squeaky wheels, to be the apparent real picture of America and the world. Wrong! Yes, there are plenty of that type, too many, and for shame already! Enough! But, a great big but, if we sit back and allow them to make lots more noise, none of it joyous, then, well we will get what we earn and that is truly unfortunate, to say the least. This will not be cured with a new year or calendar date. It will only be cured with a defined campaign against it. Beginning with adults who pass on hatred to their children. Not an easy  task, but it can happen, with lots and lots of hard truths and work.

C'mon! Let us stop and think and face and accept reality. No magic cure. No magic bullet that will kill all negative thoughts and beliefs. No magic pill that one can swallow to negate all prejudice and hatred, that can morph all the negative cops into fellow companions with the good guys who are getting a bad rap. No easy-peasy device that will reassure Black people that they will not be targeted, nor Brown people speaking Spanish somewhere to be questioned. That will take work - lots and lots of it. And while we are at it, folks, the biggest growing issue of hatred is the growing rise of anti-Semitism, on campuses, in violence, in dive bars, wherever one can find willing ears looking for scapegoats rather than looking for real answers.

What this turn of the page can give us is a renewed sense of optimism, a refreshed sense of the American we can do it spirit. While the slate can never be wiped thoroughly clean, it can get a darned good and effective job, so let us dig in, roll up the sleeves, take a god stiff drink of vanishing clean water, breathe deeply of the polluted air that we must address, and get to work. There is much to be done, much time demanded, and more calendar pages than one or one year. But again, c'mon and join in. That is the only way we can succeed in changing the meaning of all the days to come.

NEW ONSET PSYCHOSIS

      As if this year has not been bad enough, we are now, with three days left to close it out and bang! Yet another piece of bad news and perhaps one that explains a lot. Maybe. Perhaps. It seems that a growing number of COVID-19 survivors, if that is the correct term, present with a most frightening effect after several weeks, even months of recovery. 

They are fine, go back to work, join in family activities, all is great. Then boom! A little voice begins to tell them things, horrible things, terrible accusations, distortions of reality, all believable to them. Even as they know that something is wrong, this cannot be, they are plagued by the horrors this voice is telling them, always in their heads, terrorizing them and their loved ones.

Of all the aftereffects of COVID, this one frightens me the most. To suddenly lose oneself in a psychotic nightmare of a world, where who you were is no longer who you are, even as you know it is not so, you cannot help but believe it and even, in worst case, act on it. Frightening, yes? But wait, for there is more.

In a world gone off its tracks in this most awful of years, think how many of the leaders of the world have tested positive for the virus. Think how many have recovered after supposedly mild cases. Think how many of them seem mad, not angry, but crazed in their thoughts, plans and deeds. They bark at each other rather than talk and negotiate. They threaten, frightening threats, push nuclear arms races again, and use every new discovery of mankind in twisted fashion to harm other countries.

And, obviously, I look at Trump, taking a different perspective. The man has always been off, probably damaged by a dysfunctional childhood home, always plagued by both an inferiority complex and a vision of himself as as hero, the biggest winner of them all. Perhaps he even suffered one of the earliest cases of the virus, before we realized it was here, and that would explain his insane behavior and statements. His mad campaign over the results of the election in November is simply a symptom and a result of the virus. Hmm. Ya' think?

At the very least it makes it clearer, easier to explain, if not tolerate, his insane behavior. He crushed the very Party he had crushed already, as he made it over in his image - his god complex? He already had them terrorized to oppose him, to take any independent step whatsoever lest he not like that step and then the world would cave in on them, Chicken Little running around the Capitol building in droves!

How else do we explain him, and others of his circle, who engaged in treasonous behavior. One could question the water, the food, the air, the plastics, or we could simply be honest and say that the grown adults of this nation's political world had gone bonkers. Worse than that, a large potion of the nation's population had gone along for the ride, ramping up negative emotions, literally murderous behavior, and a growing inability to recognize reality, a mad inclination to pursue that which was already lost.

Am I writing this tongue in cheek? Maybe. Maybe not? But in this topsy-turvy world of the past year, nothing is out of reach, nothing impossible in a world gone mad. Putin has his ass kissed obsessively by Trump, who then sells the country down the river and allows Russia to attack us in cyber attacks, disinformation campaigns of huge proportions, interfere with our elections, like a third world banana republic! Tell me what else explains this and I will give it serious consideration.

So any, too many, people have become shapeless blobs in a mental and moral sense. They lost structure, spines, balls, let alone brass ones, character and morality. The ability to think independent of Trump became an impossibility. And so we suffered. And so the world suffered. And here we are in the worst economic crisis, one that promises - or threatens - to turn into one worse than the Great Depression, never mind the Great Recession. People are homeless, evicted, foreclosed upon, jobless, foodless, unable to care for family, unable to educate and feed and clothe and shelter their kids and hope of improvement is dim and far away. The numbers of dead, dying, sick, and the increased rationing of medical care is horrendous, unthinkable and yet it is so because we allowed the lies to exist and continue to falsely allay fears. That is until the deniers and their deluded believers fell ill and died too. Or recovered and became psychotic in a new syndrome.

All I know is that none of this year has any logical explanation. People lost their minds and became reckless in so many ways. Their mooring lines were brutally cut and the seas they were then sailing were rough and unforgiving. Worst of all, there appears to be no end in sight to this year. The calendar page may turn, and the days and weeks ands months will roll into each other, the dead filling the container trucks, families setting more unused place settings at the table, and all we are promised is a rough ride ahead and new strains coming down the pike. We are nowhere close to administering the present vaccines to the populations of the world, and yup, there it is, the new strain. Testing must be done now to see if the present vaccines will protect against that - and other strains right behind.

It might be that Rip Van Winkle had the right idea and went to sleep for twenty years The problem is that the world was not so different, was it? We need to face up to our problem rather than deny and run away. Maybe we do need to test the mental stability and capacity of people after the virus, especially the leaders and legislators of countries. For sure, it would not have hurt if we had done that to Trump long, long ago! If you are surprised at his crazed behavior, threats, and statements now - where the hell were you for the past four years?!

Sorry. Cannot resist, sad as it is to say it. Told ya' so! I really did.

May the new year that is arriving before we know it, be filled with recovery, with hope, with generosity of spirit and mind, with answers that help unite a divided country and a troubled world. May we return to full health in all ways, learn to live in peace with our neighbors, near and far, and may we all know prosperity and certainty in meeting the needs of us all.

JUST A THOUGHT - PEHAPS A GUILTY ONE, A BIT ANYWAY

     What a nice weekend. The days were quiet, barely any crisis around that needed immediate fixing, a time for reading, for idle chat, for finishing odds and ends of projects and preparing for a new one, and meeting with friends. Nice. Simple. Enjoyable. Did not solve the problems of the world nor pay much attention to it, and therein one finds the guilt.

With so many people at desperate ends, money all gone, pantry shelves bare, food pantries limiting distribution, cold hitting all over with  shelter at a premium to find and be safe, education in a huge crisis situation and how to deal with it unanswered, there I was, puttering around, laughing, accomplishing not much of anything, other than having a really nice weekend. So paint me guilty. I guess I deserve it, but still and all, it was a weekend that I needed - to refresh my soul and recharge my spark plugs.

Last night, while doing the last minute things that all women find to do before finally turning in, I wondered what had happened to me. How could I not have paid attention to the stimulus crisis. How could I not have paid  attention to the ridiculous crisis of a game of chicken Trump was playing. He could give a damn re the amount of a check. He was simply continuing to play out his insane and dangerous attempts to  cause troubles before he finally exits stage left. Can't happen a second too soon for me, for the country, for the world.

So how did I ignore all this all weekend? Yes, peripherally I knew it was there, even commented a bit in a conversation, but really..... And I finally got it. I had enough of that man and the hypocrites of the GOP. I had enough of their sudden ability, their rediscovered ability, to say no, to criticize Trump, even as he continued, as was said, to cheer "for an undemocratic coup". Finally! Finally someone else was warning us, using the word coup, of an attempt to overthrow the government of this nation.

I needed a break. We all need a break. But this is not really the time to take a break, for until this man is gone from office, until he does not have the power of the Presidency in his hands, until he is physically out of the WH, until that moment, there is no safety for us. No haven for us. And even when gone, unless he and his abettors are punished, tried and convicted and jailed, he especially, until that happens, we are in danger of showing others of his ilk that rebellion and overthrow of government is possible. Just have to refine the methodology a tad and there ya' go!!

So, back to the news. Back to that dangerous ass of a man. Back to cursing out the legislators who failed to uphold their responsibilities. Back to wondering when, if ever, the vaccine will be coming my way, wondering, with this infection and death rate, if I will be able to keep hiding from it, survive until I do get that elusive vaccine! Oy, where's my paintbrush? My sander? 

Folks, we are all tired, so deep bone tired. There is an enormous feeling of a kind of relief that this year will be over in three days. Yet, honestly, really, does a turn of the page of a calendar mean anything other than remembering to change the date if we write a letter or check? Or celebrate another year of age? Really and truly, does that matter at all or is there something unseen that will arise. Perhaps a feeling of hope, of optimism. Perhaps a feeling that despite the awful winter we are being warned of, of the awful numbers of dead that will rise, perhaps, just perhaps, there is a tiny slit of light appearing a long way down the tunnel, but nevertheless, there it is. I hope so. I hope we change our behavior. I hope those hopelessly lost and misguided Trumpers find their way back from their darkness. They seem to now want the vaccine whereas before they were thorough Trumpian anti-vaxxers. 

Perhaps, just perhaps... Perhaps this country will find its path to its center again, to balance itself, to be unto the world what it was meant to be. I plead guilty of taking the weekend off. However, mitigating circumstances prevailed. Without that break, a sanity break, I, and all others cannot continue to fight this battle. So, not guilty! Ready to get back on that horse until I finally can put it back in the corral for good.

 

CAN I? WOULD I? WILL I? DARE I? OH, WHY THE HELL NOT?!

     I now find myself temporarily without a project to work with. Not that there are not any in the list, but there are steps that need to be taken before I can get down and dirty in the mess of it all. So here I sit, and there I sat, yesterday, thinking about the next steps and the near future of my newfound craze? talent? addiction? or whatever term one can apply. Meanwhile I am excited at the thought that G-d willing, each of my grandchildren and children will have a piece of my making. A new tradition? Hopefully. I should last that long!!

So what's up now? Of late, I have been mulling over the idea of creating my own work of art (ha!) or figment of my imagination, presentation, representational of thoughts in my head - whatever. But it will be totally mine. Yes, the pieces I create are distinctly mine, signed and one of a kind for the most part. But an original piece of art? An abstract piece? Think my high school art teacher would faint if she read this! I think I will faint, for I have no clue as to where or how this interest and ability arose. I feel like fainting at times!

So, back to the thoughts of mine. Am I nutso to think I can? Am I to emulate the little engine that could, muttering all the while, "I think I can, I think I can", until it changes to I know I can? Madness, I think to myself, and yet, there is that itch, that niggling little thought that will not go away, but rather keeps growing in intensity and need. Oh, it might never come to fruition, even if I start to work on it in between other projects, but, but, maybe.....?

So, yes, why not? I look to the world at large and think, why not? If I am mad, well, there are many people out there who are definitely mad and yet look at them. Trump acts as if he is President, but not really. Called unhinged, a spoiled and entitled frat boy, a danger to his GOP - and shame on all the mad people there who enabled all this mess - and I think, HA! Madness is no impediment. To paint the Sistine Chapel ceiling on one's back for ages, well, that is madness, and yet look at what still exists.

Now know that I am not comparing myself to any brilliantly talented artist or craftsman or woman. I am a teeny tiny dot on that line of measurement, somewhere near the bottom, I am sure, but again, why not? I am not attempting to take over a country, kill its inhabitants and proclaim myself  Ruler for Life, or Arbiter of Fates. Yet people have done and are still doing that. So again, why not? Nothing I do will shake up the world, only my little world, so.... And that is it. I have talked myself into it. I will continue to gather the woods I think I need for this piece, which actually has no shape or display look or tangible presentation in mind. Yet the wood needs to be there if and when I need it.

People out there. Listen to me. I swear that before I started this - and why remains a deep dark unknown even to me secret - I did not and still do not possess a whit of artistic ability. I still draw stick figures, my humans do not look human and as for animals, well, pity the poor things. My houses are still peaked roofs and the tree beside it is still that ubiquitous apple tree with a round growth of leaves. The round sun is smiling from the top right of the page with sunrays emanating from it, always and forever. See, my teachers despaired of my drawings. Somehow they never got hung up on the bulletin board. Hmm, wonder why?

In the midst of all the mess of national life, what I do is of no importance. Yes, it is to me and to my kids. They indulge me in my delusions, even as these delusions turn out pretty damn well, if I do say so myself! So why not? People are dying in droves. Ove 332,000 dead and another almost 200,000 predicted by mid or late January. Getting dangerously close to 2 million - 2 million! - infected and who knows what the long term consequences are, to people, economy, even trust. Vaccines are promised, I am certainly checking off many of the boxes, from age to morbidities and yet, no news as to when, where, how, which one, or even how the process will work or if there is even a process to speak of! Do I bring my Epi-pen, as I have had anaphylactic reactions to various insect bites? In the vernacular - nobody knows nuttin'!

So why not? Why waste time I may not have? Why waste time that I can share with Gerry? Why waste time when something I make can give someone a bit of pleasure, with a beautiful, unusual, and useful piece of art, of creation, be it table, stool, blanket ladder, decorated crate or whatever. Why should I not dare to do something, to step out of my comfort zone? There is no reason why, so here I am and here I will stay until whatever. The future, particularly at my age with my issues and the issues of the world, the future is certainly uncertain and certainly of limited duration. Thus, I will do what my heart now tells me to do and forge ahead, try out new things, attempt new challenges and what will be, will be.

Join me. Let us make 2021 ever so much better than 2020 was. We all need hope and joy. We all need to find an interest as other interests have suffered. We all need to feel useful, to have good come out of bad. Bake a cake. Sew an outfit. Knit a sweater. Do needlepoint. Buff up. Staff a food pantry. Tutor a child or an adult. Carve and create with wood, metal or stone. Whatever takes your fancy - as long as it is legal -  do it. Just do it. It is fun. It really is and you might be very surprised at what happens.

 

TREE HUGGER?!

     Okay, so I have not yet walked into a forest facing a ruthless clearcut end of life, but I certainly have moved closer to that, and understand the emotions and thoughts involved much better. I have always been one who worried re the natural wonders and the small and large wonders of Nature, but never bought in to the extreme edges of conservationists. I still do not, but the quarantining and isolation of COVID-19 certainly helped push me that way.

Weirdly enough, I have found that in 'old age' I have discovered some newly functioning brain cells, hereto idle, that have taught me more about the beauty of Nature, the infinite varieties of trees, their colors, patterns, their awesome beauty, so I now wax rhapsodic re woods and try to create with them. Yes, I am using varieties of woods to do the woodworking, but I try to patronize those vendors who use every scrap, who recycle wood already in use, who treasure the beauty of woods as much as I do. So, no, I am not going to chain myself to a tree - bad back and all - but I am more aware, more "woke", shall we say, to the need to conserve and value this gift that we have ben blessed to receive.

Appreciation of gifts we have received, worthy of them or not, has also caused me to stop and think about another gift I have received simply by virtue of living here in CV. I know I worry about our future as a viable community. I fret about the incompetence at the top, but also see some others, old and new, stepping up to the plate and have hope. It is a wonderful place to live and has allowed me to share in a friendship that has enriched my life, and for that, at the end of year accounting, I am ever so grateful and appreciative.

Friends are important. One need not have a huge  number of them, merely some good and true ones. In that regard, I am so lucky. Living here has enabled me to pick up older friendships grown  distant due to life, reunited again, to make new friends, to share in concerns, happiness, sadness and help each other as we face the vagaries and trials of life, especially as we are tested by such a year as 2020.

I want to write of one group of friends that has been an unexpected pleasure and a main supportive column of my life. This is not to put down any other group, but this particular friendship circle, shall we say, is different. It began years ago, earlier in my life here at the Village, and continued on with time. A group of us, women, somehow began to meet together every other week, to join together in laughter, in concerns, in good times. Why? Cannot explain it, especially to myself, as these were women way outside my life experiences. We all were different. Yet alike at the same time. 

Over time, the group began to shape out into a nucleus of permanent attendees. People who shared other times together or not, for that did not matter, not at all. Unfortunately, time has robbed us of several friends. We miss them. For sure I know that I do. Each and every woman of this unusual conglomeration of friends, is a person I admire and treasure, a true gift. We have confided in each other, shared life with each other, cared for one another, got to know the people in our lives. Some of them, perhaps unknown to them, became my mentors, accompanied me into new endeavors and I became a better person for that.

In this mess of a year, mess of a past four years, a deadly pandemic, we have, at least for me, grown even closer, more tight knit, even as the group has been whittled down to a mainstay of four, with others coming and going depending on the time of year and health. I look forward to our now weekly, safely distanced, meetings. We laugh, we despair at the state of the country and the world, have our own solutions for these problems, and simply enjoy each other. Bugged by some health issues this year, they have buoyed me, keeping me steady in rough seas.

Blessed as I am with a number of circles of friendships, with a wonderful family, this particular group has become and remains special. This is a time of year when we take stock, scan our columns of assets and debits, and I come out with a strong asset account. This group, what it means to me, is an asset that I would not trade even for a winning lottery ticket!! Word!!

This past year, these past four years, the world has gone mad. Three quarters of this country, and I am being conservative here, appear to have descended into various states of mental illness, from sheer and deep depression to hatred and bias, to despair, to an acceptance and emulation of behavior they once would have spurned. It tested old friendships and even family ties. There was no normal anymore, nor hopes of finding our way back. Perhaps there will never be a return to that old normal, but G-d willing, we will all come to our senses and rebuild with a better one, all the better for our experiences, even as we mourn those taken from us.

We will all come to recognize that the deep desires of peace among nations, among friends, the need to be sure of and for our families, should reign supreme, taking precedence over all. It will be a time when we recover, as one person put it, from a year "of economic, physical, and emotional devastation". 

So whether you celebrate Christmas, Chanukah,  Kwanza, other holidays, or none at all, we are in this together. We all want peace, we want love, we want unity in our diversity, we want freedom and equality, and we want our people, those who are so crucial to a good life.

You ladies know who you are. Sorry to embarrass you. But you are a blessing in my life, one I am ever so grateful for. As we Jews have a saying, to a 120 (years) may we live, continue, and enjoy. And no yelling at me on Sunday for writing this!

 

BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

     I read. I listen and do it all over again. My head shakes no all by itself, as the mind refuses to accept. All the while, disjointed fragments of song run through the ears, earworms, all testifying to the unreal world of today. It is as if someone gathered a playlist of every phrase that describes the crazy upside down world of the present and who knows about the future. The wise ones though, figure the future is no better than the present, for too much wastage, danger, irrevocable comments and actions have taken place.

So, as the old band echoes through my head with "Burn down the house!", I also hear a modified version of It's a Grand Night for Singing" - but the skies are not blue and the grandness of it all is apparent only to the liars and loyalists and criminals, oh my! That refers to the convicted, confessed and jailed, liars, spies, traitors, war criminals, tax frauds, cheaters, treasonous loyalists to Trump, rather than to the country who all have received pardons, used by that madman in an obscene twist of its initial meaning and use. 

Meant for clemency, for innocence, for timely recognition of a need and deserving of a pardon, instead we have people who kill others, people who cheat this country, people who willing betray this country - and who have already done just that - receiving obscenely issued pardons from an obscenely compromised illegitimate president attempting to stir rebellion in the country, initiate not only a war of words, but a war of flesh and blood. Indeed, and in fact, the early stages of that have already been front and center. That is the time and the scene for the arsonists to come along and intensify the fire that is burning down the house- our house! The house of Abraham, Martin, and John.

This land is your land, this land is my land - but oh, no, it is no longer that situation. This land, we are being told, belongs only to those who profess a hateful program, one where color makes a huge difference, where differing opinions are not welcome. One where sects, outliers of religion, force their opinions, foist them, upon others who differ and those people then become the "others", unworthy of their citizenship or of any stay in this country. Told over and over to leave if we do not like the present horrific state of affairs, the irony of it all would be funny, if not so sad.

The refrain of the song which iterates the hatred one group feels for another, in a seemingly never ending list of a chain of hatred, of incipient violence, tears at the sanity of a normal person. When the refrain repeats, "We didn't start the fire," it is so wrong. Perhaps we did not light the initial match, but we sure as hell allowed that fire to flourish, nourishing it. We fed it with growing amounts of anomie, of hatred, of acceptance of deaths, of blatant liars and cheaters in government, of corruption and cronyism to flourish, for incompetence to be the primary qualification for a position in government. In fact. whether we started it or nourished it, it does not matter, for without the cooperative efforts of those who chopped the logs, undercut the legs of the Constitution, who merrily rolled along changing this country, reworking its basic fabrics, who went along, knowingly, willingly, obsessively, spinelessly, immorally, with a madman - well, they all stink, reek, of that fire, that smoke, those ashes of the country raining down upon us. 

I so foolishly thought that after that madman and his henchmen were defeated in the election, life would have some semblance of joy, some glimmerings of light for our future as a people, as a nation. But those dimly seen lights began to die down, destroyed by life as we know it now. The apparent results of indifference to all others, the who gives a damn attitude towards those not of the privileged, even as these people were convinced otherwise, - astounding! Perhaps we were actually in one of the bizarre worlds found in the Superman comics, for that is how unreal it all became, yet tragically real at the same  time.

I wanted to sing of joy, of the bus whose wheels went round and round, but not as they rolled over people deliberately, hatefully, thrown under those very wheels. I wanted to echo "What a Wonderful World", be it sung by Satchmo or Izzy. I wanted to sing with hope, not only with wishful thinking, along with Judy Garland, about the land and possibilities that await us "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", to set out with joy and optimism along that Yellow Brick Road".

But it was not to be. One of my favorite songs was taken over by these most definitely not true Americans, and "I'm Proud to be an American" became a foul lie. I could not be true to myself and sing out loud, with pride, with patriotism, the national anthem, even as I had hoped I could return to doing so. Now, under increasing threatening remarks and promises of martial action, of "wild" DC protest on January 6, he attempts, again and again, to subvert the truth, to overturn legal and legitimate election results. This man has neither care nor concern for this country. He has sold it down the river time and again, so much so that the mournful tones of "Old Man River" sound loudly in the air.

I would love to walk around with "A Song in My Heart" but will not be able to until this man is out of the WH, the same House he has attempted to burn down, coming that close to doing so! I will gladly join Nancy Pelosi and pull him out "by his hair and his tiny hands and tiny feet" and to that I add his cold heart and his broken mind. And just look at the line behind me, all willing and wishing to insure that he leave, that we get started on the road to recovery, with sane politics, care for people and a normal and effective program to inoculate, to prepare for future pandemics, for they are a coming down the track, with hope and true patriotism.

That is the house for which I can sing "Bless this house, oh Lord, we pray", and I hope you sing along with me. If we start, return to the very basics, the harmony notes will grow naturally, with all voices being absorbed, participating in making a "joyous noise". And all Johnnies will come marching home again.

Happy Holidays to all, whatever  or whichever you celebrate, or do not - your right and simply enjoy the days and count down to D-Day, to when we can have a song in our heart.

 

CONTAGION!!

      I don't know; maybe it's the water? Maybe it is the air we breathe or the food we eat. Whatever it is, it is creating mass circles of contagion, growing every day, and consisting of pure danger to us all. So to what am I referring? Well, first of all, it is not only to what, but also to whom, as this is an evil synergy of both man and nature.

To the obvious. COVID-19, 20, 21 or however many years this thing and its mutations persist in threatening mankind. These types of threats will only grow, a true growth area, unfortunately, as we persists in damaging nature, ruining the environment that we were blessed with, an opportunity to work and live in harmony with it, and the growing bad interaction of mankind and nature in the worst possible ways. Worse than that is that so many continue to insist on their right to ravage Nature, to destroy it, to wreak havoc on the natural order, all in the name of money, of billions in the bank, more houses than anyone needs and more 'stuff' than is sane.

This contagion seems to be growing at exactly a time when the other end of mankind is suffering more deprivation than ever, also a contagion of growing proportions and we all sit around and rotate for so called action  to combat this. We send food, relabel it to sooth certain people, and then the aid gets stolen and sold on the black market while those in need continue to starve, to feel the cold and the heat, to drink and wash in filthy water. The few who genuinely combat all this, well, like spitting into the wind really.

But most of all, worst of all, is the contagion of insanity that seems to be overwhelming in its growth and in its audacity. When before have we allowed madness to exist in our national level of leadership? Yes, there have been nutty and even bad people before, people who spouted evil, but they were mostly not national and mostly faded out or were truly unimportant, American ideals defeating them, even fought a Civil War to defeat the evil.

However, today we have it so much worse. We have a fake president who manifests ever increasingly the signs of madness, of myriad syndromes of mental illness that negate his ability to fulfill his job responsibilities. Even though he now is hunkered down in a royal snit, he continues to wallow in his delusions, even calling in reinforcements, fellow insane people, more and more as the contagion of madness, of insanity clings to the national psyche and grows. Another growth industry, a very dangerous one.

More dangerous, though, is the fact that we tolerate this. We tolerate the words and acts of treason with equanimity all the while we should be out there demanding justice, demanding removal of people seeking to overthrow our legitimate government, to spit on the very Constitution that they swore an oath to serve, to protect, to honor. And I am wrong, for far more dangerous is the contagion spreading even unto the furthest corners of this land, up and down, in all directions, as people drop down out of reality, into a dreamland of jagged mesas, huge chasms, and toxic airs and waters. Where they serve and protect those who would actually do them harm. A delusion so attractive, so tempting, so satisfying to the soul that the mind disengages? I just do not get it. National and individual suicide. Why?

Why do people still tremble before one who plays god, but is not G-d. Why do people give him the power of destruction? Why do they kowtow to him, talking of four years into the future, when by that time, probably even before, he will have truly exposed and fallen victim to his mental problems, perhaps even his physical ones as well, and then what? A replacement in one of his evil children, apparently rotten through and through with the same contagion? What?

When even Pence, yes, the Devil's Spawn, speaks out publicly, no more dead face, no more backroom agreements with the nefarious schemes of Trump, then what is left. Read and hear his words and then tell me there is no contagion! "As our election contest continues, I’ll make you a promise: We’re going to keep fighting until every legal vote is counted,” Vice President Pence said Tuesday at an event in West Palm Beach, Fla. “We’re going to keep fighting until every illegal vote is thrown out. We’re going to win Georgia, we’re going to save America, and we’ll never stop fighting to make America great again. You watch.”

And it does trickle down. We, ourselves, have a supposed leader in CV who is so exactly not that. Whatever qualities he had before, if ever, are seemingly lost somewhere in the shuffle, in the dust and pebbles of the disintegrating roads, in the broken fences and disarray in security, even as we seem to be funding ever bigger and more cars. It is found in the secrecy. Blaring that we were to receive the vaccine in an orderly cooperative effort with the government, we now find him forced to admit that it is a no-go. I knew that it would never be a reality, but the contagion of believing in a person long past his sell by date seems to be found even in the lowest rungs of government.

This man follows the national example of Trump. He, too, is hunkered down, not attending to meetings, not attending to business of the Village, cancelling government for a year already, other than the workings of his little evil cabal, and shouting incessantly and madly at his 'enemies' to get out of UCO, to go away, to never come back, to be denied entry into OUR building!! And then he and others go back to munching on their candies, content to have won the moment again, content like cows in the field, chewing their cuds, even as a storm approaches, and the fields around them wither in the abnormal heat.

We all need help here. We need medical help, scientific help, political help, and help from within our own selves. If we sit around, stand around, ignoring, enjoying or exhausted, giving up, well, then the contagion wins and we lose, manifestly and hugely, lose it all. Wonder if there is a vaccine for sanity, and if not, perhaps a huge effort such as we have done with the vaccine for COVID-19 can be repeated, this time with a different goal in mind, just as needed, just as important, perhaps more so!

Wonder if this will be a 'historical' epic movie twenty years from now - if we survive, if we do not become the reality of a Midnight Sky. I would hate for that to become true. G-d Almighty, but we are in a bad way and where is the cure, the panacea for it all?

WHEN, WHEN, WHEN!!!!!!!

     There are several reasons why one can sit out there and ignore or deny reality. One can, most unfortunately, be a Trumpite, who neither cares nor understands the danger he represents. One can be a fervent supporter of his plan to overthrow the government of the Untied States, to spit on the Constitution. One can be a member of society who feels no connection to it until it hits them personally, and by then it is too late. Or, one can be among those who have given up, tired, so tired of all this.

I, too, as so tired of all this. Weeks after he lost the election, in a resounding and definite election, wherein the voice of the people was loud and clear, weeks later we find that he has morphed into the modern day version of the Confederate States of America. No, he has not, as of yet, spit out a secession declaration, for his plans and the plans of all those traitors who met with him in the WH, munching on little snacks - paid for by us! - as they planned the overthrow of the government, are far greater in scope. No split, but rather a taking of the whole, the country in its entirety. So you out there who think this has nothing to do with you but is instead mere wrangling among politicians, well, think again. Think of the morning after, Jan. 7, 2021, when the United States of America will cease to exist in its present form.

"Almost certain to fail." And there is the key word, creeping into our phrase lexicon, once an unthinkable possibility. Almost certain? It should not even be a far distant thought and yet, here it is, with Representatives and Senators conferring with the President of the United States to negate and null its Constitution, to overthrow free and fair elections, so declared over and over again. Yet the madman of the orange hair continues to scream, continues to plot and plan, continues to rush headlong, taking along a shockingly large group of those willing and indeed, eager, to go along with this declaration of war on America. They have even been openly joined up with Pence, who will seemingly refuse to do his job and will rule favorably on all the attempted blocks and hindrances to the certification of the Electoral votes. Never did trust that man, the man of the pasted hair, the dead face, and a psychological weird fear of "Mother" - his wife!

Perhaps more frightening than anything else is the amount of those willing, even eager, propulsive in intentions, to go along with this rebellion, this treason. Personally, all these people, every man and woman among them, every single one, from top to bottom - from Trump to those waiting to be sworn in - they are all traitors! Sworn in to what, I wonder? To what political entity are they swearing allegiance and loyalty - to the US of A or to the State of Trump.

 Unless one is deaf, willingly so, one cannot but hear the echoes of pain filled cries coming from the past, and even the future, as it is being changed. Adams, Washington, Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Lincoln, Grant, Roosevelt - both of them -Kennedy, McCain, the dead and wounded, the missing, of our wars, their bereaved families, and all those now little boys and girls who only wish to grow up and become of service to their country. Gone, all gone, in the eyes and minds of these dastardly bastards, and now, even Pat Robertson realizes his error in backing Trump. Too little, too late, I believe! Just too damned late!

Yes, I am that frightened. Think of all the once unthinkable that has taken place these past four years. A man impersonating a president sitting and tweeting as a madman, running a government rife with incompetence and corruption, governing along lines of madness, a criminal in his own right! Worst of all, those whom he has  suborned, inveigled into his treasonous camp, for whatever reason. Is McConnell a traitor? Perhaps, but personally, I think he went along for the thrill of the power he held in his weak chinned face. Does that make him innocent of charges of treason? NO, for he has enabled all of it, from start to finish, he and so many, shockingly many, more.

73 cadets from West Point caught up in a cheating scandal, a huge one, all but one from the freshman year. What does that say about the decaying moral fiber of this nation. These cadets passed through high school during Trump's term in office, so ask yourself, just what lessons re morality, justice, laws, and faithfulness to one's oath did they learn? From that rusted out idol or figurehead? I am so sick of all this, watching as this whole country careers and caroms off walls of their own making, much to our detriment.

What will be? I think even G-d is flummoxed, taken back, appalled, at the behavior of mankind. Lord, Lord, but what these people have wrought. Over the past few years we have enabled so much. More wars, more slaughters of ethnic origin. More growing hatred and actions based on that hatred. Growing deterioration of the climate and environment. Food and water shortages. Hunger and homelessness. Repetitive behaviors of the past, like separating, forcefully and cruelly, families seeking asylum and safety, hope and a future.

We have long been warned that what a man sows, he will reap. We are promised, though, in hope, that he who plants in tears and sorrow, will reap with joy and laughter. There is hope There is a chance. But those odds are rapidly shrinking, the door closing and no corresponding window opening. No, the only hope left is us. Will we recognize the treasonous acts of the President of the United States, the Vice President of the United States, the Senators involved , the Representatives pushing this whole initiative? Will we? 

If we do not step on this, then "almost certain" will be empty words and what will we look forward to on Jan. 7 other than troops in the streets, and the dimming of the light of hope for mankind, permanently shut, blown out with a permanent breath of our treason. Benedict Arnold sends congratulations. Nathan Hale cries. So do I. And you?

  

SLEEPLESS NIGHTS - AGAIN

      I remember my grandparents telling me that I should enjoy my sleep when I could. When I asked why, as sleep seemed to be a waste of hours that could otherwise be spent in reading, thinking, improving my skill at jacks and turnover games, the answer was that sleep was a disappearing magic trick. Why magic? Because it could lead to thoughts and answers to problems, about issues, that were not there the day before. I would shrug my shoulders, wondering again at the strange behavior and thought processes of adults. And proceeded to read again that night with my flashlight, under the covers, treasuring those quiet hours of enjoyment. Now? Now I wish I could sleep, would rather not be reading or typing during the wee hours of the morning. But I guess we never appreciate things in their times, do we?

Aside from the apparently shrinking ability to stay asleep, or turn off the thoughts, enough at least to fall back and stay asleep for a few blessed hours, it was the uncertainty of the immediate future that worried me the most. For four years I figured that the ouster of Trump and his crew would lead to better sleep. I could stop those thoughts of horror at what we had become as a nation, as a people. We could now return to our basic foundations, work at becoming a united nation once again. Return to a saner program of environmental and climate approaches, stress the need for compassion and humanity, for economic sanity, and turn off that chute of hatred that kept spewing its sewage into our national ocean. We could even be so much better at handling new problems like the pandemic, working again with science and scientists of the highest caliber, speaking truths, not spitting lies ever and always. Simply put, it was to have hope once again.

Those sleepless, worried nights, increasing in the level of anxiety with every lie, with every outrageous act of indecency, with every increase of accepted hatred and bigotry, with the continued deterioration of the economic situation of the nation, appeared to at least be coming to an end even as they ramped up during the campaign. Could it be that Americans would do the wrong thing again and keep that travesty of a man in office?! No!!! Cannot be. Must not be. But there it was, in the middle of the night. Keeping my eyes open, staring at the ceiling, planning to get rid of that popcorn stuff, - and I did - with thoughts of worry and concern, with fright, chasing each other round and round. In the middle of the night.

Ahh, I thought to myself, after the election. He could scream and shout, kick his heels and wave his arms, but he lost. Sanity prevailed as the people spoke. Sleep. Again. I hoped. But it was not to be. That man, that imitation of a human, proceeded to threaten to bring down the pillars of our country, like a destructive Samson of America, rather than dredging up some shred of pride and dignity, and making his exit like a man, a grown up man in  a grown up body with a grown up mind. Never to be, was it?

So the sleepless nights became worse, more intense, and I literally begged my mind to let me sleep. I prayed for something to happen, anything, that would turn off that man and his dangerous rantings, his whipping up of the mob,  as his 'base' became more toxic, more determined to forgo any and all rules in the madness of denying the truth - he lost, Biden was #46 and that was that. But no it was not.

More and more outrageous actions and lawsuits - even yesterday. More threats, even unto the suggested use of military law and rule. More insane tweets and even madder conversations with his enablers on Fox. Even some of them began to turn away from him - too little, too late. Yet those of the GOP in government all lost their minds, their spines, their sense, as they were sniveling cowards, afraid of this madman, refusing to acknowledge, openly, honestly, that the truth was the truth, that democracy would defeat the attempts to overthrow it, that they would regrow spines and recognize treason where it was, and stop enabling its destruction. But that was not to be either.

Finally, after all the reassurance of all the talking heads that such was not to be and that was not going to happen, or the other plan would not work, even as all these reassurances fell behind in the dust, as his insanity, his dangerous insanity and mad pursuit of a win in an election he lost went beyond anything anyone anticipated, even then, we were told not to worry. Sure, it was grating on the nerves, but no, would never happen - even as it did. Time and again the never to be became  reality and even as he lost, as his mad associates lost with him, they refused to accept the truth, to accept reality.

Oh, yes, they could make a mess on Jan. 6, but it would be over too, and rule would prevail. But would it? An insane conversation complete with an imitation Hitler, ranting, raving, chanting, threatening, proposing maneuvers that would kill this country, took place, with the advisers even more insane than their master. And sleep became a dream I chased with no chance of catching it, as long as this madman and his enablers, his resident cowards, his treasonous backers like Graham, McConnell, Jonson, Paul and the House creeps that went along with this. Everything I had worried over, all that I had written of, warned of, all had happened, even as sleep became ever more a wisp of a dim memory. What would be? What would the world of America be for my family, for my kids? What would be did not appear to be pretty. It certainly was not reassuring.

Now, when the man was at the end of the road, seemingly devoid of any more room in which to practice his dangerous insanity, he did it again and sleep became an impossibility. Military takeover? Military overseeing supposed elections after seizing the machines? Scorched earth policy discussed when speaking of fellow Americans?! Allowing a dangerous person, Sidney Powell, to advise in a serious manner? Using troops to invoke that martial law, making a mockery of an old piece of legislation, twisting and turning it to enable his own twisted mind and ambitions? Even some of his chief enablers had it - enough. But that does not stop the mess and now I am desperate for sleep.

 How to stop worrying. How to deal with dangerous idiots who tell us that we have to "run the gauntlet'? What the hell is happening here, to us, to America? Do we not hear the voices and echoes of all those who died to make America possible? Do we not see the gaps in the population of people who died - were murdered - by the incompetence and lies of the Trump administration? Where in the name of all that's holy - and not - are we?

Below I have copied a piece of an article and see if you can sleep after reading this. I need say no more as tonight, you, too will be staring up at the ceiling, along with me. 

"...even the mention of martial law may fan the flames of many supporters clinging to the belief the election result was fraudulent. That could incite violence to bring the idea into fruition.... "In the conspiratorial conservative base of supporting Trump, there are calls for using the Insurrection Act to declare martial law,"... "When they hear that the president is actually considering this, there are violent extremist groups that look at this as a dog whistle, an excuse to go out and create ... violence,.....  

It's a concept she calls "acceleration," in which violent extremist groups, especially White supremacists, try to overthrow the United States government. These groups believe that will take place through a civil war and look to "accelerate the chaos, accelerate the coming of the civil war..."So when they hear that the president is open to this idea of martial law, we may see certain groups mobilizing to commit acts that, in their minds, a justification for the use of the Insurrection Act,"

Join me in those sleepless hours. Be ever alert. Be ever watchful. America needs us; we need us. Please.

RUBIK'S CUBE AND OTHER GAMES

      The game of life. Except it is not a game. If a player goes bankrupt in Monopoly, or loses at the game of Life, or runs afoul of some creature, avatar or whatever, in an online game, no foul, no problems. Just start up again and all is well or pack it up for now and continue on without a problem. But life is not a game wherein we can erase the board or press delete without any consequences, or even not having that option at all, not even a tad.

Unfortunately, we seem to be having a losing game of Rubik's Cube as our guiding manual for life. The politicians and presumed leaders of the country are playing at life with more turns and twists, more different sides than a Rubik's Cube possesses. And they are all no good. These supposedly mature people rant and rave at each other like a bunch of spoiled brats and nothing gets done. Nothing happens other than more threats, more bombast and hot air, and more  people sinking into economic desperation, the likes of which have not been seen here for many, many decades, at least for the majority of the population.

It appears that the Rubik's Cube in their possession is broken beyond repair, yet they fail to either recognize or accept that fact. What we do have, though, is a number of these losers moving off into a game of Chicken, this time not with cars, not with hot rods, but with words and threats that have terrible existential consequences. They shoot off their mouths, enable completely off the wall people to spout theories and advice that do not verge on the edge of treason, but are actually treasonous. They threaten and provide for the overthrow of this government, of any government of this country other than Trump or family member. And towards financing that foul dream, that broken and dangerous game, they have raised and siphoned off hundreds of millions of dollars to finance this nightmare for the people of America, for the fate of the world. There will be no twisting and resetting the sides of the Cube here.

Sidney Powell, an apparent escapee from some ward somewhere, a fitting companion to the one who made the Oval Office into an outpatient ward for the insane, met with Trump Friday night at the WH. The man who has abdicated his Presidency before his term was up, other than to rant and rave, scream and threaten, found time to meet with this lunatic and plan ways in which to overthrow the government, refute the truth of the election, turn to military control of the country, of raids on the machines, of the military running and overseeing new elections in six states - guess which ones- and well, folks, that would be all she wrote. For all of us.

Guess who else came to dinner that night. Michael Flynn - yes, that pardoned crook. Advice by Meadows. Kemp, who apparently appears to have a streak of masochism running long and deep, replacing any kind of spine, as he takes his daughter to the polluted home of the man who has made him into a punching bag. Sure, and that will set a wonderful example for his kids and others. All those non thinking, brainwashed people out there who believe in ghosts and goblins and unreal conspiracy plots!

These conspiracists are not picking up their own marbles and going home, but instead are picking up OUR marbles, our gloves and games, and barring us from our own homes. They are traitors. Pure, plain and simple. It is time we stand up and say and speak the truth. No edging around , no euphemisms, but the plain and simple and  clear truth. They are traitors. Period!!

 Clearly, there is no existing with them as they threaten our very country. There is, in fact, no living with them at all, and the numbers speak for themselves. They broke the rules of the game, ignored it when it pleased them, lied about it, fudged the numbers and, well, lookee here. Over 17 million infected and the numbers rising catastrophically every day. Over 315,000 dead and remember when that dangerous asshole said only two were infected and maybe they, and they alone would die? Well, that is long gone, is it not!! 

Lies and evasions about the vaccines. Lies and evasions about its availability in enough quantity. Lies and evasions about its supposed plan and program. And meanwhile, while the sane of us remain hunkered down again, while California is shut down again, as a terrible surge hits it, as London is hit with a new  form of the virus, what are we doing about it as a government? Nada. Zilch. Effes (zero in Hebrew). Nothing that will matter, for we continue to resist the truth, the harsh truth, the real rules of the game, and in fact, the truth, that this is not a game of Rubik's Cube where we can undo the wrong twists and turns, redo the whole thing, as many times as we want. 

It is, in fact, a matter of life and death and too many are losing, too many are dying, too many are moving, falling, with no safety net, into desperate situations, homeless, hungry, starving, hopeless, and all the while the politicians, particularly the GOP, like Johnson, Paul and others of that ilk, who plan to invoke chaos on January 6, who quite possibly see nothing wrong in a military takeover, all the while they continue their last desperate and dangerous steps to kill off this country,, to take revenge for supposed wrongdoings, to play the games with their own dangerous and illegal rules. Who talks of a scorched earth policy against their own citizens and country other than traitors?

Well, this is not a game. This is real life. This is real hunger. This is real desperation. This is real children dying, losing a future life. This is real. These are real holes left in the lives and hearts of people. These are real people disappearing off the face of the earth, and in less than a year, with no end in sight for the foreseeable future. To be told well, maybe late summer, late fall, maybe never - well, new rules, sane rules, rules of truth telling, of sanity in planning, of loyalty to our country - that is the game we are in and the game rules we need. Enough of the revenge taking, the 'sweetness' they perceive in their dangerous plans and actions.

There is an old Irish proverb which goes like this - "It is sweet to drink but bitter to pay for." - and how fitting. How much they need to read this and absorb. How much we all need to read and think. There are no winners at this broken game and bad rules game we are enmeshed in, up to our necks and indeed, over our heads. There is no way out other than to reboot, admit and face our errors, speak the truth and do the right things. All the time.

And throw away that broken Cube and ditch the life threatening rules. That is the only path. The only way, or we will go down for the third time. No coming back from that. Certainly not in any recognizable way. Bitter to pay for indeed.

SHRINKAGE, MUSICAL CHAIRS - TAKE YOUR CHOICE

     At times it feels as if we are in an atonal version of musical chairs. The music is jagged, irritating, eating away at the harmony and peace that music is supposed to bring. Instead, we have a game in which chairs are quickly disappearing or being abandoned. The game is afoot? Maybe, but is the game a winnable one, or is it futile, as futile as fighting the Borg on Star Trek.

A turnover is coming to DC. New music is being favored. New chairs are brought out. Some are impressive, as the choice of Haaland for Secretary of the Interior, the first Native American to do so. Perhaps we can look forward to better music as we traverse the shrinking federal lands that contain and protect our natural national monuments and stunning vistas of Nature. 

But even now, there are jangling notes being heard underneath, irritating to the ears, troubling to the soul. There is a pettiness to be found in the music as the GOP, small people all, still threaten to disrupt Congressional approval for Biden on Jan. 6, and fight tooth and nail against approval of Biden appointees. Never mind the dysfunctional government that would arise, for we have had exactly that the past four years as they perfected the game of jagged musical chairs. The Democrats bicker within themselves over the appointments to the new Biden term, declaring the music offkey before it is even heard. The various factions demand their own version of perfection and the music of those differing perceptions are hurtful and harmful.

Then we are told of the growing shrinkage of the power and role of America in this new post Trump era. He has given away the world to others. He has shrunk our image, our influence, and now we are being told of the new alliance - England, Germany, France, Italy, and the EU, and there is the big invisible elephant in the room - not Carmen Sandiego missing, but the mystery is rather where in the world is the Untied States of America? We do not hear the music of the Star Spangled Banner any longer. Like the music of the French in the 1812 Overture, it was once triumphant, and then began to fade, its tones and notes defeated by the growing victory notes of Czarist Russia and the opponents of Napoleon.

Even as the world shrinks, there are those who forget that fact. Pence must do his job and confirm the fact of Biden's imminent presidency. Then, he is packing his bags and running away, on a last binge of spending our funds, far away, he thinks, out of range, of the anticipated barbs of his master, Trump, in a Twitter bombing. Well, news for Pence. Twitter and venom travel the world and the airwaves, the wires and the wireless, the air and the print of the media. No extra chairs away from the music and no avoiding the music either! 

Such stupidity. Such shortsighted thinking, but what can one expect from a man who wrote in July that there will never be a second wave of the virus, that it would be over soon enough. Ahem! 215,000 new cases yesterday, a total of over 16 million - read that number again - infected. Almost 3,000 dead in a day, joining the almost 310,000 dead already, and the numbers are expected to grow. Each infection, each death, a tragedy, one of gasping for breath, of loneliness, of love frustrated, and of a lack of necessity as proper handling at the beginning would have alleviated and ameliorated some of this, much of this. 

The blame, the indictments of murder and manslaughter, should fall upon the GOP and its perverted uncaring leader, Trump. He feasted at his own versions of the Berchtesgaden as Americans grew hungrier, colder, more frightened and more divided. The cutting notes of the music grew even as the chairs available shrunk. And in the meanwhile, the music of salvation, the sweet notes of a returning world, became fainter and fainter, as we are now told - surprise! - that it will take much longer to roll out the entire vaccination program. Whoever believed the fairy tale of the lesser time needed, well, fairy tales in truth, well, they did not always have happy ever after endings. Sometimes the wolf ate the little child, while others were cooked, thrown away by a world too grim, too stupidly stubborn, too damned ignorant and defying of the truth, too indifferent to the true degree of suffering of the masses of the world's population.

Trump threatens not to leave the WH on Inauguration Day. I hereby volunteer to grab one ankle and pull. That will make the year 2020 begin to fade in the distance as we get rid of some poisonous growth, broken chairs, and horrible atonal hurtful music. In the meanwhile, DeSantis of Florida refuses to speak to the mayors of south Florida, the crashing states are ignored in their dire need for funding, and the new version of anti - vaxxers are continuing to threaten our national health.

 Is there anyone who remembers how to play consoling music, inspirational music, challenging music, hopeful music, encouraging music, music that will remind us to move those feet and dance? In fact, how many of us remember how to dance, how to move around those chairs and find a seat, how to laugh as we pull our friends onto our laps to share the seat, to remain in the game, to become a shared and sharing group of winners, all looking to move forward, cut out the exclusionary tactics of corruption and cronyism. Making sure there are enough chairs for all in a new administration, or at least the attempts to do so, to move forward, to gain traction against what has become of America and find her truth once again - and soon.

Come, and let us find the music together, make music together as the song went, in peace and harmony, reserving anger and the channeling of that anger, always attempting to move forward, no more backwards movements. No more music that disturbs, hurting the ear drums, forcing deafness, willing or not , upon so many. The world has shrunk. The music is heard all around the world, no matter its point of origin. Chairs are wanted by more people, people who refuse to be out of the game in an early stage. We need to set the alarm, the soft music to awaken us, to get louder as time goes on, allowing for more volume, more encouragement and inspiration, a growth of hope and goodness. That is the shrinking world we need, the music and the additional numbers of chairs to be added to the game. 

The game is real. 

Can we not recognize that fact? Can we not agree to play it properly, choose the right mix of music, treasure the music of all the nations of the world, and grow together? Pipe dreams? Maybe, but where would we be without dreams? And as the world shrinks, let us open the game to more. Who knows how far we will be able to extend the line of chairs, what progress will be made, what new music will be heard?

HORSES, DEAD AND ALIVE

      We are beating dead horses, and the reek of it is astounding, often enveloping the world. Six or seven weeks ago we voted. People won, and people lost. The losers were disappointed, but most went on their way, to pursue other endeavors or to prepare to run  again for some other position. Or take a job, but whatever the choice was, most went on peacefully, accepting the voice of the people.

The people spoke loudly and clearly re the presidency. Trump was soundly defeated, too long in this happening, as he defeated himself over his term in office, yet we allowed him to remain there. But most frightening is the phenomenon of so many in high positions, supposedly sworn to defend the Constitution and the rights and needs of the citizens, continue to beat that dead horse. Insisting on ridiculous and actually mad suits, insisting against all proof that the votes, both popular and Electoral, went to Biden. The madman sits there and tweets. "too soon to give up...People are angry." Yes, people are angry - so very angry.

They are angry at the suborning of treason. They are angry at the behavior of the brainwashed and the unthinking. They are angry at the harm inflicted upon democracy, upon our foundation of the right to vote, to allow the voice of the people to be heard in an orderly, lawful manner. They are angry at the ruckus continuing, embarrassing us internationally, worrying thinking people all over the globe, encouraging rioting and fighting in the streets of America, at the growing divide among the population, at the loss of dignity as top officials of the country continue to beat that dead horse.

That dead horse stinks to the heavens. Its reek of decay and degeneration infest and infect all, near and far, creeping into every corner of this embattled country. The irony of it all is that the one causing this, the 'leader' doing this, the leader posing a danger to this country such as we have never seen before, the man who will not get off that dead horse - is the one man supposed to be the utmost protector of us all, of our laws, of our mandates. And yet - there he is, sweating away in his orange hair, actually hair losing its neatness - like his brain - determined to drag along with him, take along in his defeat, people who should know better.

These very same dangerous creatures are threatening to create a terrible mess in Congress on January 6. There, Mo Brooks, who belongs in a mental ward, and some unnamed Senator, possibly Ron Johnson, Rand Paul, or a similarly deluded dead horse beater, will challenge the Electoral votes in one way or another, thereby instituting the beginning of another dead horse beating but could that dead horse be America!!!

Compare yesterday's activities of two living Presidents. George W. Bush unveiled his Christmas card and a doozy it was. No dead horse there, but rather a living one, galloping in all its glory. Taking up painting upon his retirement (and there I share with him in the joy of new creative arts), the card was as follows: There was his painting of the Statue of Liberty, the Lady of the Harbor, that much maligned statue and its meaning over the past four years, along with gently pointed statements re freedom and light. Obama participated in a wonderful task, visiting children in hospitals, so hurtful, so sad, especially during this holiday season. And Trump? He raged and tweeted on. Inanely and insanely.

Like it or not, the Senators of the GOP are going to have to rummage around in their pants and find some missing items. They are going to have to put a rod through their wimpy spines, those very same spines they have lost over the years as Trump rode them like the dead horses they are copying. The excuse they make, that they are afraid of Trump's rage should they agree to a clear and evident truth - that Trump lost, Biden is #46 - ridiculous!! If they would stop investing him with power, he would be back to being the loser that he is and always was and will be.

In the meanwhile, there are herds of living horses that demand attention. There are many, many dark days ahead of us, even as we vaccinate some. The amount of doses are pathetically few, thousands more will die, the numbers of half a million are now being bruited about, the costs will be astronomical in so many ways, and yet, there goes that herd, unaddressed for so long, and still neglected by the GOP.

And there is another herd of galloping, charging live horses. The herd of the economic system, crashing under enormous pressure, threatening a Great Recession or even a Great Depression. Whatever term we give that herd, it will hurt. People are already losing homes and living space. People and families are going hungry, unprepared for the cold weather, unable to get their children to be educated, and the anger grows, the power of those hooves cause the earth to tremble and resound. And yet, there they sit, watching the dead horse for signs of life. Never do they understand nor state out loud their cowardice nor the truth of the whole mess. Never do they accept their role in allowing this man, in enabling this petty man, to achieve these heights and to become so dangerous to us all, citizens and country alike.

The earth continues to tremble as we hear the next herd, alive, and unfortunately well, representing the bigotry and prejudice that rips through this country. This prejudice goes back and forth and no prejudice is acceptable, not from White to Black, nor Black to White. Not Christian to Jew nor Jew to Moslem nor Moslem to a non Moslem. Prejudice is harmful, dangerous, inimical to progress and stimulates all the evil pieces of mankind, all the horses that should have been gone, acknowledged as dead, so log ago. We should not have to see yet another video of a naked, Black young woman, swatted in her own home as she slept, naked and handcuffed, and the police refused to acknowledge they were once again in the wrong home, tried to stifle the investigation, trying to hide the video of it - and yet - always - the truth will out. Why cannot we finish off that ugly herd of horses, once and for all. Our similarities far outweigh our differences, and our differences add spice to life. Why is that so difficult to understand.

Dead horses. Live horses. We need to recognize and distinguish and take to taming and bettering the situation quickly. And in the meanwhile at least get a shot of laughter at the thought and picture in the mind, of Trump, tossed out of the White House, refusing to live in New York which despises him, and now Mar A Lago and its neighbors are at odds, the neighbors reminding him of the agreement he signed that he could not live there as they allowed him to build his club. I laugh! I surely do! Perhaps someone knows of a warm subway grate or a bench in a park where he can lay his head. Maybe McConnell has a spare room or couch for Trump. They surely deserve each other. Ah, fate plays jokes on us all. Gallop! Gallop!

JAGGED

      Jagged is a rough, asymmetrical edging or state of being. Jagged is the way many of us have felt over these past five years, caught in a world of once unimaginable situations and uncertainty as to whether we would ever climb out or off that jaggedness or not. Certainly, there is more hope now. However, the edges, the sharpness, the ability to inflict serious and grievous harm remains.

But there is jaggedness present both before and during and  after these years that has nothing to do with the political, economical, international or even health situations. That is the jagged edge that so many of us perch atop, uncertain, frightened, alone in a world of darkness and terror, not knowing where to turn, whom to trust - not even ourselves. 

For sure, the catastrophic political situation did not help, but its jaggedness existed before, during, and will continue after, as long as society has its defects and blindness when it comes to recognition of truths. So many of us like to coast along, keeping the blinders on, refusing to recognize the agony of others - and even our own - hoping that ignoring things will make it go away. Never has, never will, yet on we go. 

The Broadway play, Little Jagged Pill, referring to one or another of the many pills that we take in order to calm ourselves, is a play we all should see. Certainly, when Broadway reopens, go. Think. Be aware of reality. Open eyes, ears and minds as well. It was my privilege to watch a streaming presentation by the Kravis Center of the songs and the cast and WOW! What an impression it made. As one who taught and administered for so many years, I recognized so many of the issues and problems, the angst of the school population, and even the uncertainties that beset adults.

In the persona of the educator, my first reaction was to exclaim, "Man, I could teach and discuss the @*&* out of that, at least for two weeks, if not more." So powerful, so chock full of relevant and urgent messages. So full of the desperation of people, the anomie in which they live. As that educator, almost unconsciously, I drew up a piece of paper, grabbed a pen, and took notes! Can retire, but never get the educator out of one!

The androgynous of society, wherein the divide between genders has grown dimmer, fainter, more confusing than ever, good, bad or indifferent. The deep sack of darkness in which so many of our teens and even preteens find themselves, no light to help find a way out. The growing population of these kids in special programs in hospitals and as outpatients, the success of some and the disasters of others; the jagged edges of life on which so many of the younger LGBTQ live, uncertain of the security of their home, of the lasting love of their parents, of the warmth of an accepting family and circle of friends. And it goes on and on.

Furthermore, this all pervading anomie does not end as people mature, for the adult characters in the play presented their own jagged edges, as did their "good" boy, the child who was breaking under the pressure to perform, to meet growing expectations, and the girl, who was trying to figure out who and what she is, trying to divine the truth of relationships, and all the rest of those who populated this enormously talented cast of presenters. The emotions came through, and one can feel that these people actually felt what they were singing of and about, understood their fellows  and the cast melded with the audience.

How did one know about that melding? Simply by reading the chat lines coming up, etched on the screens of the audience, a constant scroll, never ending, replete with YES!! Or, "I am so there." "This is me!" "I am crying."? " No!" The pain was deep, rife with emotions of betrayal, angst, depression, loneliness, uncertainty, hopelessness - and yet, also, with the help of others, caring others, there was an attempt to learn and teach, to reach the innermost truths and be true to them. To learn how to live in society as oneself, a true self. How to accept that truth. To understand that we may not always, even ever, understand our own total selves nor others, but is that always a bad thing?

The songs were powerful, not necessarily the ones one whistles as one exits the theater, but the ones whose words and emotions reach deep inside, awaken some, dampen some of the loneliness and terror of the so lonely, and we know, deep inside, that the words are right. And hope grows, a bit at a time, as we are told to accept that life can be good, as we live and learn, cry and learn, bleed and learn, love and learn. One is not alone, need not be alone, can indeed be part of a society, contributing and belonging.

It sounds pat, but is not. The lives are jagged, the words cut with their jagged edges, the moves are jagged, as we either see ourselves in them, in the characters, or see friends and loved ones, as we examine our own selves and deeds. Are we to find ourselves wanting? Perhaps, but to learn, that ability, is stressed. We can always learn. We need to learn. That is the only way for a good society, one that will avoid the divides of society such as we have now, where people do not talk, nor even recognize the peoplehood of 'others'.

As for those, that segment of society that rankled so these last five years, as they grew in number, as the negative emotions grew, became rank, poisonous, and dangerous, well, perhaps a shot of this play or two or ten, would help. They might recognize themselves and understand where they came from, are still coming from, and understand how their so wrong leader became what he now is. Maybe. But we can but try. We can but learn.

NOT TODAY!

      Today is different. Today is not a day wherein I write of the attacks o our democracy, our integrity, or indeed anything national, international, local or otherwise. Nope, today is something different and in honor, written out of love and admiration for a most very important person.

Who is that person, you ask? Simple: She is my sister. My big sister. My ''elderly" sister, as I tease her. Five years older than me - oops, four and a half, as she so very carefully and often reminds me - she has always been there in my life.

With infinite patience when played with me. We spent hours on the floor of the house playing jacks. We spent hours together in our room - yes, we shared a room until she married - and I am ever the better for that. I know all the oldies that were before the years I became interested and why? Because she played them on our radio, thus giving me years of pleasure not only then, but into the future, as I sit at concerts, as we share memories, as I sing along with the radio and my new friend - Alexa. Always, I was there,  going to the movies with her and her friends, becoming a part of them, all as nice to me as she was. Yes, a sister is a great sibling to have.

It is especially great to have an older sister, for there is much to follow, to model. She is and was, always, a good girl, and I can remember only  one time when she played a prank in school. Yet she was always in the midst of everything, always with friends and I was so proud of my big sister. I admired her as she went to youth group on Saturday afternoon, singing, dancing, laughing, smiling. My goal was to be her as I grew up. And vicariously, through her, I went through high school with her, singing the songs of their teams at competitions, knowing the teachers better than I knew mine. I even underwent the throes of puppy love before I knew what that meant, as I followed along in the lives, crushes and dating history of her friends. Who needed soap operas? Real life was far more interesting. Ah, those innocent times.

Most of all, as a mentor, as a model, as a friend, as a sister, there was no one better - and still is not. And as she grew in that role, so too did I. I watched from the side as she developed into a wonderful teacher, became a significant member of school life, had the courage and presence to support a teachers' union in the school against all pressure not to. Best of all, as a young aunt, and then a mother myself, I was privileged to share her children with her, to engage in the joy of being an aunt, something she reciprocated with my kids, even unto the point of some shocks! (Wanna' see the flowies...")

Admiringly, I watched as she bravely battled a harsh case of acne, and beat it. I watched her faithfully put on her "marsman" headgear every night. I watched her study, conquering the sometimes weird demands and expectations of teachers. I watched admiringly as you lived your wonderful relationship with Zaydie, so special. I watched as you were welcomed into the homes and families of my children, a favorite aunt. And, I also remember, dear sister, how when we shared a bed for a "sleepover", you either kicked me to the wall - literally - or to the floor - literally. I think I still have the bruises! 

As life went on, we remained close, and today, despite her living with her wonderful husband far away, in Israel, we speak every day, sometimes more than once. I miss her physical presence, but perhaps with this pandemic under control hopefully in the very near future, perhaps she will be able to return for a few months. I await that time impatiently, even as I admire her courage fighting a battle with a vicious ailment, beating it down, and as we say, - to a hundred and twenty - Tzip. May you always be there for me, as I selfishly wish and hope, and I also hope that I will be there for you, me and Gerry, together, with our sister.

Happy Birthday and so many more, healthy and happy ones. There is so much to live for, to see, to share, so take care, enjoy the day, laugh, smile, be the wonderful role model you were, and are, my big - elderly - sister. I love you. As do so many others.