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For The People

Posted on March 31, 2021 | Leave a comment

Why is this important? First, I’ll tell you a story. You’ll be hearing a lot about H.R. 1 and Senate 1 over the next few months. Here’s my analysis.

Right out of college I went to work for the State Assembly Speaker’s Office. I was first an assistant, then moved right on to my own committee as a legislative analyst. I was given what I called the “grab bag” committee, a huge task, 750 bills all by myself with no assistance and no computer or internet. Grab bag because whenever someone had something that didn’t fit anywhere else, it came to me. Thus legislative ethics (talk to me about that being an oxymoron later), redistricting, Native American land claims, cable television franchising, ADA, casino gaming, fire and building codes, human and civil rights, privacy, land sales, and lots of other stuff.

Also involved were two very important things, oversight of the Open Meetings Law and Freedom of Information Act. For anyone who’s heard of the bad old days of smoke-filled back rooms and politicians making secret deals, both these laws tackled the issues deftly. You have to publicly schedule a meeting with time and date and invite public attendance, and set an agenda so that people know what the government entity is going to be voting on. And, everything is available to members of the public.

The theory, a good one, is that sunlight is the best disinfectant. Let voters know what you’re doing, when and make it available for everyone to read and decide whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing town councils, legislatures, governors are voting on.

But this is high school civics. Let’s start at the very beginning with our ABC’s. I’m a citizen in good standing (that means I’m not in jail serving a felony sentence and I’m eighteen years of age or older) so I can vote. The Voting Rights Act and the courts since 1965 have made it easier for all American citizens to vote. So I can easily register to vote, vote in person or by mail, and my vote will be properly counted and certified. Sounds easy, right? I will opine and add another wish I have for all voters: that they should know what huge donors are backing each candidate.

Now you’ve a bunch of states who have acted badly in the past, making it difficult for mainly people of color to vote. Now the Supreme Court has said that’s OK, until Congress changes the law. This past year, COVID messed everything up and with hospitalizations and deaths rising, it became a challenge to vote so some states tried to make it easier through extended early voting and addition of drop boxes.

Then President Trump lost the election. Now 43 states are trying to make it more difficult, once again primarily for Black and brown voters, but for disabled and the elderly as well, to vote. The only reason my state isn’t on the bandwagon is that it’s already difficult to vote here since 2016 with requiring photo ID and eliminating polling places in mainly neighborhoods that vote heavily for Democrats.

For The People Act will make basic rules for states to follow in conducting elections. It is my fervent hope that they will also fund and provide technical support for states and localities for upgrading equipment, so that a poor staffer isn’t stuck in a broom closet in a town hall with a 286 computer trying to input voter information.

It also requires that sunlight shine on what is called “dark money” which has proliferated of late because of new laws and loopholes. Basically, it says that everyone who is eligible to vote should be able to do so with a minimum of fuss; their votes should be counted correctly and fairly; and that voters should know who is funding candidates.

It’s OK to send $20 to the candidate of your choice. That is to be encouraged. What this bill does is make it more difficult for billionaires to buy elections secretly. Statehouses used to be part-time and include farmers, shop owners and school teachers. Now it’s all lawyers and rich folks who want power or something to do with their time.

Since Election Day (November 3, 2020) and especially the Capitol insurrection (January 6, 2021) our nation’s democracy has been severely threatened. If the majority of states pass laws like Georgia’s voter suppression act we won’t have time to quibble about Open Meetings or Freedom of Information statutes because there won’t be any.

Please look into the For The People Act on your own. There are primers online, you don’t have to read the entire thing. Just look for a balanced analysis by a non-partisan source. I’m partisan, vote Democrat, Republican or Independent depending on the candidate but I am 100% for democracy and our Constitution and will work hard to make sure we don’t throw away our Republic.

This past six months a number of lawsuits in my state threatened to throw out my vote and our state legislature and one US Senator toyed with throwing out our entire state’s votes just because they didn’t like who won the presidential election. Sorry to say this but that really ticked me off. No-one tosses my vote and gets away with it. To readers who want to retain a government of, by and for the people, I salute you. Cheers! Dee

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All Good Things

Posted on March 27, 2021 | 3 comments

Originally French, attributed to pseudonym Violet Fane, “Tout vient a qui sait attendre.” Technically, all things. I added the word good because in my life, the best times have been the result of a wait.

It took twenty years after college to meet my life’s mate, my dear husband. Yes, I had to kiss a few frogs along the way but he was worth the wait. Along with him came a great surprise.

On our bedroom wall is a photo of my mother, my grandmother (Dad’s side, Mom’s mom had already passed) and me. I was just out of the hospital, a few days old. It was to be the last time I saw that grandmother as she died before I was six months old.

Two months before we decided to elope, we flew to meet his parents. They were OK with my husband’s choice of spouse, as my parents were with mine. Then we went to meet his grandmother. She interviewed me at her home, was very gracious, and welcomed me to the family. She said that since I never had a grandmother, she could be mine, too. That meant a lot to us, to my husband because his Nanny had sat him on her lap as a two year-old and read from the Encyclopedia. She always indulged his love of learning and that it took him to a degree in physics.

So, for twenty years I’ve had a grandmother, of whom I speak of today as she is laid to rest. She was ninety-five when she passed earlier this week, and while COVID will diminish the number of people who gather to see her on her journey, she knows that she has the love of family and friends. She got to spend time with her great-great-grandkids and not many have a chance to do that in life. God rest your soul, Nanny.

Let’s see, there are other good things worth waiting for, like wisdom. I’ve always thought it humorous when a teenager pens an autobiography when their life has barely begun and they haven’t had time to pull all the pieces together to see what they mean in context.

It took me nineteen years to get my husband to register to vote. Last year, he finally did. He still has yet to visit a polling place, but that’s because we dropped off our ballots as a result of COVID.

And then there come our dogs. The first fifteen years we had Zoe, an Australian Shepherd mix from the pound. She was a sweetheart loved by all, who only needed two people to be happy, us. Now at two years is Lulu, a full miniature Australian Shepherd who is still bouncing off the walls unless she has several play dates with other neighborhood dogs each week.

Ah, here she is helping make the spaghetti. We’ve thought of getting her a buddy, but my husband’s been stubbornly insisting that it be a large, sedentary dog who will calm her down. My view is toward a dog of similar type and energy level so they can play, tire each other out and then can hang out and watch Netflix before bedtime.

It took two years of waiting, but just the other day he backed down and said he thought we “needed another.” So good things do come to those that wait! I’ll start looking as soon as things get back to normal, whatever that might be. We’re still awaiting COVID vaccines. There may be a relocation on the horizon so we’ll just wait. After all, everyone is waiting for normal to return, and hoping it’ll be good news. Cheers! Dee

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Art, Accessibility and Selfies

Posted on March 2, 2021 | 1 comment

I know, she’s a bit off today, what on earth do these things have to do with each other? A lot. I didn’t grow up with art, except in the days when they still had art classes in public schools. Even then, no-one could ever say what I created there was “art.”

I’ve never understood why people travel and incessantly take pictures, especially of fellow travelers in front of the castle, next to the Eiffel Tower, overlooking Niagara Falls. I’ve always enjoyed seeing whatever I’ve gone to see in my own time, for my own reasons. One thing for which I have no love or patience for is selfies. Get in, grab a photo of yourself in front of whatever everyone wants to see, and dash out. That’s just rude, not only to all the fellow tourists but to the artist himself/herself, dead or alive.

When I was five years old my family traveled to see the World’s Fair in NYC. It was a big deal. All the kids probably remembered Sinclair Dino Land (Sinclair was an old oil and gas company) and Ford had cars on the track and we traveled in a blue convertible with Mom behind the wheel. What I remember clearly to this day was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

The exhibitors brought in Michelangelo’s Pieta from the Vatican. I remember going down an escalator into a dark space with light shining on one thing, the incredible statue of Madonna and her dead son. We walked several feet in hushed silence and before we knew it were on an escalator back to light and humanity. Twenty years later I saw it back at it’s home in Rome’s cathedral, before it was shot at and it was surrounded in bulletproof glass for eternity. Either time I saw it, no-one grabbed their cell phone and took a selfie. Of course cell phones were not yet invented or perhaps they would have. It would have been highly inappropriate, in any case.

There’s only one time I’ve been to Florence without seeing the Uffizi Gallery. It was the last time I visited, with my husband, for a brief weekend with my Dad. We were living in Scotland for a few months and only had 36 hours so we pretty much walked, ate and got a few hours sleep before returning to Glasgow.

COVID-19 has made a lot of tourist attractions re-think their operations, having been shut down and now allowing only small groups in if possible. The Uffizi is such a fantastic place. The Cimabue Altarpiece, Michelangelo’s Doni Tondo, the Da Vinci Annunciation, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus and Primavera, so many historic works of art. The Museum has always been popular, with about 12,000 tourists a day, and getting tickets has always been difficult but not impossible. But now I believe that selfie rudeness has made its mark and it’s OK to just run in and out, grab a photo in front of the Birth of Venus and not even look at the art itself.

Premiering this summer is Uffizi Diffusi, which will lend works of art to neighboring towns in Tuscany, often where the artist lived or worked, so that art lovers, and lovers of the Italian countryside, can see it without flocking to Florence. I think it’s a brilliant idea. What could be better than a road trip to a town or two on a nice day, visiting a few works of art and having a nice meal or two? I really hope it works and hope that COVID vaccinations begin to allow world travel once again.

How to get to these far-flung towns? Driving is always an option. I’d suggest an international driving permit, but at least in Italy they drive on the right (as in correct, as we Americans invented the car, not the Brits) side of the road. Tour bus? I hate them, following the lady with the pink umbrella. I’ve only done that once, with a dozen culinary students, and it wasn’t bad at all. We were staying in the Val d’Arno and drove up to San Gimignano one day. A fellow traveler and I thought we could have enough time to see the freschi at Santa Maria Assunta. We ran all the way there and back, and had ten minutes to see the church. If you’ve ever seen the wonderful film Tea With Mussolini, that’s the church they were sandbagging to keep the Nazis from destroying in WWII. I didn’t have much time there, but it was a destination that I did get to see for its sake, not to take a selfie of me in front of a di Bartolo, Lippo Memmi or Ghirlandaio.

It’s about respect. I like to research where I’m going so that I can appreciate it, and take it in hopefully at my leisure. Standing behind twelve people packed in like sardines is not how I like to see the Mona Lisa but that was my only choice. There was much more of interest at the Louvre to make it worthwhile. I do take photos, like the ceiling in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. I got in trouble for that, even though I didn’t have a flash and I was 300 feet from the subject matter. I’m more likely to capture a beautiful old door, or geraniums on an ancient balcony. Framed in my home are photos of gnarled Concord grape vines in New York State, an old mill in Vermont, and several of islands in the Ionian Sea, of Lefkada, Zakynthos and Korfu.

I am not an artist, no talent in that regard. Not an art historian, either but I do love beauty that others create, and nature. So it you get to Tuscany this summer please check out Uffizi Diffusi and let me know how it is. Ciao, Dee

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Growing Up

Posted on February 28, 2021 | Leave a comment

I’m going to take you on a brief journey today just to make a point. After college I spent several years in government policy/politics then as an outside rep for a trade association (lobbyist). Over the past several years as the prior US administration gutted the justice system and rule of law, I have been continually shocked and have not inured to the prospect of living in an autocracy. How fragile is the system we live in, and how easily it can be destroyed before our very eyes.

It got me to thinking about how I grew up and what makes me who I am today. Luckily for you, that’s a larger subject than will not be dealt with in this venue, but if the book ever comes out I’ll let you know. Phew, you lucked out on that one, you could have been up all night.

Aging brings with it memories. This morning I found a clip of hair, short, black and white. What?!? No-one here looks like that, but she does. Lulu, our miniature Australian Shepherd, has “bloomers” on her back legs that get a bit long and could get wet when she goes potty, so I bought professional scissors and did my best to shorten the fur a bit. A piece had gone under the sofa and I came across it and laughed.

When my sister and I were little, about five and seven, perhaps, we planned on taking a big family trip and had to get up way before the sun rose in order to drive to our destination. My sister had never outgrown sucking her thumb, and would twirl her hair at the same time until sometimes it became knotted. Usually she could easily undo the knot. We got up that morning and met in the kitchen where my parents were looking at Mom’s dull kitchen scissors next to a clump of hair with a big knot in it. My sister had a lock of suspiciously short hair sticking up near her forehead.

“Who did this?” ‘Not me,” said she. “Not me,” said I. “We’re not going anywhere until we find out who did this.” We waited. And waited. I talked to my sister alone and she wouldn’t confess and apologize, no matter my exhortations. I came out to the kitchen and said “I did it. Can we go now?”

“No.” “But why not?” You should know for the record that my sister’s hair was light brown and mine was a darker brown so the culprit was obvious even if they missed the hair sticking up part. “Because you lied,” said Mom. What??????? So I was in equal trouble. We must have eventually gotten on our way after both apologizing but I thought I really got a raw deal.

Of course I know that telling the truth is important and key to having a good moral character. What I find interesting, however, is that I avoid conflict but not at all costs. I take what’s coming if I deserve it, and apologize for errors and the like. But I turned out to be a mediator, and someone who also thinks outside the box to find new ways of reaching a solution between parties. Dad was a dreamer and a doer, a musician, educator, administrator. Mom was very bright and methodical, and became an accountant later in life. When I stumble upon old family stories, I like to think about why we ended up how we are today.

Our Lulu didn’t get in any trouble at all because she didn’t cut her own fur badly, I did, and found the evidence when it was evident there was also a need to vacuum. But it’s Sunday, tomorrow is another day. Cheers! Dee

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What To Do?

Posted on February 25, 2021 | 1 comment

As my favorite late night host would say: what to do “quarantine-while?” Many things, as it turns out. Yes, I took up Italian and after several months negotiated all five levels of Duolingo Italian. I’ve learned a lot, but not enough to have a basic conversation with anyone who speaks fluent Italian. So now I’m seeing what I can do to punish the French for what I learned in high school, which is more than I thought. I was immediately bumped up having known some basics. I switch back and forth and will go back to Italian again, perhaps with a tutor when that’s possible. I don’t mind beating up on the French but love Italy and Italians and want to be able to speak somewhat fluently when visiting or perhaps even taking another cooking class there.

You know I’m back to writing a bit, witness this reconstituted blog. Today I’m helping my husband edit transcripts from a seminar he held last week. I’m not looking forward to that tedious task. Long-term I want to start exercising again, probably not at the gym (there’s one in our building) but walking and doing some core work. I’d also like to look into opening options for “single shingle” type businesses especially with regard to health insurance availability. And I’ve an idea for increasing voter participation and candidate responsibility. But I do tend to get waylaid when inspired.

We live in a quirky neighborhood, not city or suburb, university on one side and city on the other. The other day husband and dog Lulu were out for a walk and he brought me a poem. Turns our we’ve a poetry box in the neighborhood and in it was Lone Dog, by Irene Rutherford McLeod. One original with a photo of a dog, and copies to take at will. A very kind neighbor.

Lone Dog

I’m a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone;
I’m a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own;
I’m a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep;
I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep.

I’ll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet,
A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat,
Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate,
But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate.

Not for me the other dogs, running by my side,
Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide.
O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best,
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!

===============

A rank amateur, Lulu’s mom decided to give the kind poet who provides this service a reply, to wit:

Ode to the Lone Dog

Seventy degrees in Tucson, I’m eight weeks of age,

I left with two people and turned a new page.

Now this town is my home, it was seven below.

They set out for a walk, shivering pup in tow.

They bought me coats and booties, not that I care,

But it seemed they had a bit of money to spare.

I gave obedience, dock diving and smart toys a try.

Ha! With COVID, indoor play dates now get me by.

Even though I was young and brand new to this town,

I got to know everyone, because I get around.

Scavenging, baying on cold nights with the stars?

I’d love to tease sheep, but not travel so far.

Here human staff care for home, food, treats and play.

Despite the leash, I’d have it no other way.

================

Apologies to the true poet! And thanks to Ms./Mr. Poetry Box. We also have a book box made by kids from the Montessori School up the street. It’s called the Little Villa Terrace Library, patterned on a museum a few doors away.

It’s nice to pick up a book and drop one off from time to time. Quirky neighborhood, but cool to live in and walk around. So in my spare time when not learning, I’m writing, cooking or doing laundry and 101 other things, quarantine-while. I think I’ll make a frittata for lunch, with potatoes, baby arugula, tomato and gruyere cheese. Not a quiche, as my hands melt butter for pastry! Ciao, back to work, Dee

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Cookies, Mommy!

Posted on February 22, 2021 | Leave a comment

Ask anyone I know. I do not bake. Perhaps it comes from the days when my mother was such a good baker and my younger sisters turned out to be as well. I like the savory stuff. Also, I have “hot hands.” In cooking that has nothing to do with body temperature. Just that some people are good at pastry and some melt butter at a touch. I’m the latter.

On Lulu’s second birthday I tried to take a stab at making doggie cookies, having found a basic recipe and then I’ll plan to try variations depending upon what she likes. Below, she wanted to help the first go-round. COVID said we couldn’t have a party, so we did the next best thing, made a bunch of cookies, put a ribbon on each and set a basket of wrapped goodies where all her buddies could grab one. This tray is being filled to go into the oven.

I tried with peanut butter first, as the main flavor ingredient. It’s messy but she loves it in all her frozen Kongs that she gets as treats. Here’s Lulu in a favorite spot. I think she’s quite pretty.

Lulu, age two. She’s unique for many reasons but one you can see is that her right eye is half-brown (on the top). She loved the idea of the cookies and the taste to begin, but she got bored with them after a while. In this recipe there’s one cup of what I’ll call flavoring, in this case creamy peanut butter. I added to that whole wheat flour, baking powder, water, a bit of honey and one egg. I buzzed it up in the food processor, turned it out on the counter, made it into a disc, covered and refrigerated it a bit. Then I rolled it out and cut it with Zoe’s old bone cookie cutter. Voila. I left them in a turned-down oven to dry out a bit.

I didn’t try it with liver because I didn’t want to smell the cooked liver on the stove or in the oven, but she’d probably like that best. I’ll wait for Spring until I can open the windows. Today’s attempt will be with pumpkin, canned (not sweetened). I’ll let you know how they turn out.

Lucia is Italian for “bringer of light.” She brought some into my life when it was needed. Our Zoe was 15 when she passed, we had her at six weeks and she was the sweetest dog in the world (except yours, of course). She was part Aussie and we really loved the personality. I’ve never had or wanted a purebred pet, dog or cat, but this time I wanted to see what a real Aussie would be like. We opted for a Mini, a full Aussie but bred from the smaller dogs. Thus Lulu, or just Lu now. Or Poopyhead or Dogma or Bunny or whatever is the name of the moment.

We were told she was a Mini, and that she was not a chowhound. She is as big as Minis get, and a chowhound. Forty-one pounds at last check. Cute as a button, still, but rather than being dainty, after playing with her six brothers through weaning we call her “Tank.” She is Zoe times ten. Zoe minus the helmet, brakes, turn signals and with a stubborn streak a mile wide. That’s our Lulu. She’s smart as a whip and can figure out how to beat any educational toy and eviscerate a stuffed animal in seconds. But it took nearly eight months until she was fully potty trained. Too smart for her own good. I will never be able to trust her with traffic. She knows all her commands but obeys them only when she feels like it or when there is a high-quality treat involved. At twelve weeks she knew all her stuffed animals by name. Go get Hedgehog, Easter Bunny, Piglet! Then she killed them all. Twice (I had sewed them up). Now she has one large squeaky ball that lasts a year, so she’s now on her second.

I thought she might like dock diving. She doesn’t like swimming so far. Agility? We haven’t tried, but there’s no way I’m traipsing around the country in search of blue ribbons. This Spring we may try testing her for sheepherding skills, but unless we move to the country and get a flock of goats or ducks she won’t be herding anything but us.

So I can try baking. Kneading dough is good for my arthritic hands, and we’ll see what Lulu likes best. Of course it’ll be the liver. Unfortunately those must be kept refrigerated or better yet, frozen because they go rancid quickly. I can saute chicken liver like I do for my chicken/apple/walnut pate, then perhaps mix it with some cottage cheese for the flavor component. No flambee for Lulu, however but I should make that (human) pate again as it’s quite good flamed with a bit of cognac.

But I digress. The good thing about dog baking is that I’ve a host of tasters close by. COVID-19 may have curtailed human activity for the past year, but Lulu has a rollicking social life with play dates nearly every day. One could say that tiring her out once a day keeps us both sane! Here, pups! Do you like the pumpkin cookies? Is Dee your favorite aunt? I see by your tail wag that’s a yes. Keep up the good work, we’ll let you know when we dogs have a consensus winner! Cheers, Dee the Dog Baker

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COVID Relief?

Posted on February 16, 2021 | 1 comment

It’s clear to me that our representatives in Washington, D.C. would not recognize a constituent if they met one. They certainly don’t know what we need, which is a healthy vaccine dose(s) and a shot in the arm economically as well. It’s a good thing that our new President is on the road (not to see yours truly, but he will be right down the street) to let the Beltway Bandit Gang that there is a there there in the huge US of A and we’re desperate for legislative relief.

I’m talking today, however, about another type of COVID relief. The late night comedy kind. As we’ve cocooned the past year in our abodes I’ve depended on the news to keep me up to date on things like today’s crazy weather and impeachment number whatever, late night has become a staple of this usual early bird. I love Fallon, Seth, and SNL for entertaining us the past year but biggest kudos for me go to Stephen Colbert and his team at A Late Show.

From the early days of his backyard to growing his hair and always testing the limits, Mr. Colbert has shown his wit and wisdom and a bit of himself as well. Thanks to all who bring him to us week by week.

Two things in particular. Every year around Thanksgiving I hear a Christmas song, usually on the car radio on a the long trip home, and I shed a tear. That’s the turnaround point, when my husband is sleeping quetly in the passenger seat and the dog is on her bed in the back of my SUV, when I look forward to Christmas. It didn’t happen at all this year. I decorated without spending any money, writing COVID-19 with our names on a disposable mask and using that for this year’s unique ornament. I planned dinner for two (we then “adopted” a parent-less neighbor for our festive meal), and didn’t exchange gifts for Christmas or his birthday on the 23rd. OK, I did buy the dog a new ball in advance of her 2nd birthday on New Years’ Eve.

But it wasn’t until the 27th when I heard Jon Batiste sing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” that I shed that tear. Thanks, Jon! In the movie Monuments Men, Bill Murray’s character got a record of his wife singing that song, that was actually sung by Rosemary Clooney, a favorite of mine as a child and when I got to meet her in Four Girls Four years later. White Christmas is still one of my favorite films.

The other thing that stands out, Mr. Colbert, is that wonderful giggle when you hit the nail on the head, the voice of your wonderful wife Evy, who always makes me want to be a better spouse. She still laughs at all your jokes! I thank her and your son for being your crew much of the year and for laughing at your jokes. You demonstrate what family is all about during tough times.

Here’s to hopefully getting some governmental relief. I do plan to continue the late night laughter therapy as well. We don’t celebrate Valentines’ Day, but did give a nod yesterday to Susan B. Anthony Day. Today I hope there’s work and a vaccine on the horizon even though I don’t know what normal will be once this is over. Cheers to laughter amid the tears. Dee

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Last Chance

Posted on February 9, 2021 | Leave a comment

Senate Republicans, this is it. Before you go into this impeachment trial, know that it is not about you. It is not even about Donald Trump. It is not about either of your quest for eternal power.

It is about our nation, our democracy, the stuff all our kids learn about at school. It is about how voters decide what kind of America we wish to live in. Not courts, not secretaries of state, elected officials or angry mobs. It’s about us, we the people, your constituents whose votes you tried to invalidate two months ago.

You created the monster and let it loose: you let extremists try to take over our Capitol and our Electoral College. Only you can put Humpty Dumpty back together again and for that you need a collective spine.

To do so you cannot hide behind lies of stolen elections, unconstitutionality of this impeachment or figment-of-the-imagination first amendment claims. You must face the beast head on, tell our former president that neither he nor his extremist perpetrators are welcome in a democracy. He can’t primary all of you.

Then you have to apologize to the American people for misleading them for months pre-and post-election, and stop Republican-led state legislatures from imposing even more draconian impediments to cast one’s vote. Yes, you have to do this, because in order to be worthy of being a political party worth its ideals and a platform, you must have them first. Then believe in them, then and only then can you open your doors to new voters and say “look over here, this is what we stand for. Come join us!”

In the end, a perpetual minority cannot legitimately rule the majority. The sooner you get that into your head, the better. Face the beast you created lest a smarter, more devious version of it will crash our democracy next time. You were given a chance to convict a year ago and you passed. You pass now at your peril, because the voters are on to you and your tricks now, and the next election season we’ll be voting for who will really care for the American people and our democracy. Think about that before you vote on our behalf. Cheers, Dee

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No Bells and Whistles?

Posted on February 1, 2021 | Leave a comment

Just a drawing of a trophy, and I had to click on it to elicit a congratulations. Pathetic. That is the sorry state of my “COVID Italian.”

Permit me to place this in context. In order to make a (not so) brief stint at home during a global pandemic more interesting, I decided to learn a foreign language, as did many of you. Is it because I couldn’t be bothered with making sourdough bread? Perhaps.

A few months ago if someone asked me if I spoke Italian, I’d say that I know “restaurant Italian.” I can order off a menu in any restaurant in Italy. I can find the bathroom (Dov’e il bagno) and say good evening “Buonasera.” Also thanks, you’re welcome, how much is that beautiful leather purse, and please excuse me.

Now I’ve passed all five levels of Duolingo Italian and can’t speak with an Italian to save my life. Not that I don’t know the words. I can read some Italian, and now will be able to continue to test myself on verb tenses and I’ve also found libretti of some of my favorite operas to try (not to sing, only read). I’ve still much to study in the various verb tenses and personalizations.

Duolingo is a perfectly good way to go, and I’d feel comfortable traveling to Italy with a dictionary in hand, but then again I’ve been able to get by in Florence and Rome many times before. I’ll keep at it. My husband took up Spanish for business purposes and spent ten times as much as I did per month for a personal tutor via Zoom on BaseLang. His Spanish is way better than my Italian.

Yesterday I passed all five levels and one of the phrases I had to decipher was “You’re my only hope.” So, of course, I made light of it and asked my husband, Aiutami, Obiwan, sei la mia unica speranza.” That’s “Help me, Obiwan, you’re my only hope.”

In the meantime I’m polishing some very rusty French (Merci, Madame) while thanking my second high school teacher for my first two years on the subject, but not my real first high school teacher in a backward high school, Monsieur, as his class was abysmal.

After I bastardize the French and Italian languages a bit more, I may take up Latin. Or Greek. Or sourdough. Baking in general. So much for my COVID education. Possa la forza essere con voi. (May the force be with you), Dee

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Freedom and Light

Posted on January 8, 2021 | 2 comments

Everything is black. There is light above, in the distance, shining through shards of glass and pieces of canvasses covered with my favorite art, Renaissance and Impressionist, all triangular and just out of reach. I reach for the next one, it’s circling and its sharp edges cannot be reached. Jumping now, I grab it and begin to pull myself up.

Bright light intervenes and I’m in a beautiful setting with palm trees and sand, then I awaken in my old cement block college dorm room and there’s a blow-up palm tree sitting on my desk with a paper I’ve yet to finish. Repeat ad nauseum.

Finally, I emerge into the light, and am free. See, I’ve been a coma for a month, trapped in my mind and body and unable to get out. One thing I remember clearly is a blank grey space into which I said “If this is death, I need to go back, I’ve got stuff to do.” And I do.

For three months after I awoke, I was told I was the hardest working patient on the brain trauma floor. Near the end of my confinement a shrink who should lose his license said to all the other doctors and therapists, in front of me: “Is this the smart one? Well, she’ll never get out of here or will spend her days in a place just like this and no, she’ll never drive again.”

Two weeks later I was home. A month after that I passed my driving test (tester said it was like I’d never been away) and then as a ward of the state I was supposed to show up in court so I could be institutionalized. I called my state attorney and he said he forgot to contact the court to have my status reversed. I told him I would represent myself and my husband was on the road but would be at court virtually. Oops! In one fell swoop, my identity, no, existence, was erased. They sent a lawyer to evaluate me surreptitiously. Mom taught me to be a great hostess so I asked him if he’d like me to brew him some tea, he sat down and discussed the weather then quickly excused himself, knowing I was sane and would be fine.

Perhaps the injury jiggled things around a bit but I had a cataract and after surgery for that, I was able to get corrective lenses and read and therefore write again. Thank you, WordPress, for being here still for my return. Someone stole my blog address while I was gone but I was able to change to a .com instead of .net and everything for the past ten years came back to me. Writers block kept me away for a while.

But I wasn’t afraid of much else, as a death scare tends to put things into perspective. Like for nearly everyone else, 2020 was mostly bad with decent health but no work. Politics became more of an interest, but that’s because I like to imagine my way around sticky situations. Always a problem-solver, I also think outside the box (now, literally).

It bothers me that I live in a swing state and for months our president, US senator and state legislature have tried to illegally rob me of my vote. My vote is my voice, a precious thing. I spent a month convincing myself to get out of my own way to be free. If I can do that, I can do anything. I’m pretty stubborn, ask my husband if you still don’t believe me!

I believe that we have rights and should be able to exercise those rights in a lawful fashion. We live in a democracy that awards us certain freedoms and with freedom comes responsibility. We vote for people to represent us and maintain our rights. If they choose not to represent us fairly and tell us the truth, we have a right to un-elect them through the ballot box or even a recall election if their faults are egregious.

This has been a dark year for our country and for the world. Judging from our democracy, many of its leaders have not dealt with the challenges well. It is our responsibility to assure that we have people in leadership positions to help us through these dark times so we all can see the light.

As I see it, it’s not about Democrat or Republican, it’s now about America. This week’s activities to overthrow our government should scare all of us. We must do better. We must meet in the middle and fix this mess, and we must start by accepting the truth. On January 20, our country is going to be on a new path, whether one likes it or not. Americans, starting with President Trump, can no longer pretend that Donald Trump will be leading this country at 12:01 p.m. next Wednesday. Alternate reality is not reality, folks.

After my dark year, a year before COVID-19 shattered our lives and livelihoods, I had a chance to strive for light. Our old dog Zoe was with me at the hospital but died before I awakened. She was a gift we named “Zoe,” Greek for life when we adopted her fifteen years earlier. Our old girl could never be replaced but on December 31, 2019 a puppy was born. Eight weeks later Lulu came home with us to start a new chapter. Lucia, Italian for “bringer of light.” Zoe would have approved.

I’m looking forward to light, and freedom. And a COVID vaccine shot. I’ll wait my turn for the vaccine, but not for the rest. Buon’anno, Dee

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