Sometimes when I was a little girl Dad would put a Frank Sinatra album on his “Mono” record player and we’d sing along to High Hopes, those high apple pie in the sky hopes. He’d always tell me I could be anything I wanted to be, mostly a ballerina back then if I recall correctly. That or something with horses, until I was thrown by a pony and that dream went kaput.
I remember vividly the Spring of 1976. We were living in Great Lakes country. I’d just been accepted to my college (now university) of choice, and had a date for my first prom (a dud, as I had the flu and after photos and a quick trip to the venue I was home within the hour).
High school graduation was a month away, and then we were planning a big celebration on July 4th. Two hundred years of the US of A! Yea!!!
It would be more special than usual this year because Mom’s Canadian family was coming down for my Aunt’s (the English teacher) naturalization ceremony. The only one of the three sisters to become a U.S. Citizen. The eldest lived in Canada her entire life, Mom had a Green Card and lived here for over fifty years and my Auntie L became American on this most solemn of national holidays/birthdays.
This year there is little to celebrate. Trump is kicking out many of the immigrants who allow our society to function, cutting science funding, rewriting history to deny the existence of exemplary women and people of color, and messing with elections to make sure his sick version of white “religious” power remains for eternity.
Perhaps to celebrate 250 years and a college degree and career I shouldn’t have had because I’m only a woman and can’t be trusted to own property, vote or control my own body, I’ll take a class in how to become a good “tradwife.” I’m retired now so can make the time.
Perhaps not. Now that MAGA thinks they’ve election fraud perfected, my Medicare and Social Security are at risk so I should look for a job. In rehab after my traumatic brain injury nearly a decade ago, a fellow patient paid me the ultimate compliment, opining that I’d be a great WalMart greeter. I smiled and thanked her, as she knew nothing of my work history (come to think of it, at that time I was still “re-booting” and didn’t recall much of it either).
Better to throw myself into the fray and do what I can, besides vote, to make sure our democracy lasts past July. Kudos to King Charles and the Magna Carta and checks and balances. No doubt Trump hasn’t a clue that he’s been suitably, and elegantly, dressed down all week!
Now that the last Navajo code talker has passed, perhaps a new spy language can be formed from seashells. Does anyone have Jim Comey’s phone number in their rolodex?
Law school. I could finally take the LSAT’s then go work for a pro-democracy NGO. Now, where are my keys???
Let’s give the United States of America a big present. The Constitution, pre-Dobbs, pre-J6, pre-presidential immunity, pre-voting rights annihilation. Does one ever think what might have happened had the nation believed Anita Hill? We, The People, can make it happen. Dee
Cooking with Dee 