The Future (Simon Lynge)

I have plans tonight with Sarah.  Backstory:

I posted a few months ago that I had started watching the TV show Brothers & Sisters, which I hadn't seen on its initial run (2006-2011).  It was five seasons (!), and starred Sally Field (I had just finished reading her memoir, which was the motivating factor), and Calista Flockhart (who I adored in Ally McBeal).  Rob Lowe (who I didn't find out about until later) was the proverbial icing.  I also love that thirtysomething people are involved (Ken Olin and Patricia Wettig!), and that the atmospheric music is sooooo Six Feet Under (plus the soundtrack introduced me to so many wonderful songs, this title song just one example... :-)

Scary that The Walkers are so much like our family (or our family is much like theirs).  I see myself in Nora (kind, generous and socially-conscious, with more than a touch of power and control issues), my Sarah is mostly their Sarah with a bit of Kitty thrown in (business-savvy, divorced mother), Rob is Kevin (the gay lawyer, who does a kick*ss velociraptor imitation) and Eric is Justin (baby of the family, battled addiction issues but cleaned up well).  They drink a lot (pot, meet kettle!), and they cannot keep a secret at all (one tells another, and it eventually makes its way back around to whoever shared their deep darks, only to find it's all out in the open).  Ack!

When I began watching, I had a series of epiphanies with each episode, which made me love my children even more.  Halfway through the first season, though, it turned into a soap-opera-ish Perils of Pauline, with each episode ending on the proverbial cliffhanger (SPOILER ALERTS:  oh no, the dad was having an affair for decades, and they incorporate her into the family!; oh no, the family business is going into bankruptcy!; oh no, the dad had a child with another woman (not the mistress, but someone else!); oh no, one of the daughters has cancer!; oh no, the gay couple's surrogate had a miscarriage!... or did she?!?  Oh god, it's been a sh*tshow, but based on love and concern, of course.

I got Sarah hooked but, when it appeared to have "jumped the shark" early in the series, I swore that I was going to just quit watching... but Sarah convinced me to keep at it, and I agreed.  Five seasons seemed daunting, but I ate it like an elephant, one bite at a time.  We've each kept up with it in our separate homes, a few episodes apart, sometimes she's ahead, sometimes I am.

Season 5 (the last one, thankyoujesus) has 22 episodes, and it was Sarah's idea for us each to stop at the end of 20, and we would watch the last two together (*really* together, at her house).  And that's what's happening tonight.  I will spring for sushi and, in the spirit of the over-indulgent Walkers, there *will* be wine!  I can't wait to finally pull the plug, but I must admit I'm going to miss them... 💔

P.S.  This picture is hilarious, and takes me right back to our early days (May 1991!) of joyful chaos (ahem, why was Eric wearing an Indian headdress to Tom's - who Chico is holding - baptism, at which he and I were the godparents of Dan and Kai's little guy, adopted from Peru?!?), Rob yawning, Sarah grimacing.  And just look at us now (above).  Aren't we lucky and blessed?... 💖

NR:  The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix (I chose this for Wednesday's book club Zoom meeting!)

SONG:  The Future by Simon Lynge

BOOK:  How to Write Compelling Stories from Family History by Annette Gendler

POEM:  Slowly but Surely by Mario Benedetti

The future's coming slowly

slowly

but surely

right now it's hidden beyond

the surly clouds

and some still invisible

nimble heights

beyond the thunder's roar

and the spider's web

it's taking its time

like a determined flower

keeping track of the sun

perhaps that's why

daily life

prepares to greet it

settling exorbitant debts

opening new chapters in memory

but the future's

in no hurry

it's coming

slowly

finally bringing relief

bread for the hungry

battered angles

faithful swallows

slow

but not half-hearted

neither smug

nor a spoilsport

it's simply

coming

with its sharpened blade

and weighing scales

inquiring first

about our dreams

then our homelands

our latent memories

and our newborns

slowly

the future's coming

with its mondays and marches

its clenched fists and dark-ringed eyes and projects

slowly but swiftly

like a dim

still unnamed star

convalescent and slow

sheepish

proud

so very modest

that well-versed future we're shaping

we

and chance

but more and more we

less and less chance.

QUOTE:  “The best way to predict your future is to create it.” ~ Abraham Lincoln

Don't Panic (Coldplay)

My daughter Sarah had an appointment in Wynwood this past Saturday afternoon and asked me to accompany her.  I of course said that I'd love to and suggested that, if we had the time/energy/inclination, we should walk around afterward.  The area is a famous community showcasing graffiti artists, and I'd never been down there.  And we did.  A-f*ckin'-mazing!

Here's a bit of backstory:  Wynwood Walls (which is currently closed) and American History... and some photos as examples of the coolness.  We strolled for two hours, stopping for a short while to enjoy tacos, guac/chips, and beers.  I was so impressed, and want to return soon... 😍

NR:  In Zanesville: by Jo Ann Beard

SONG:  Don't Panic by Coldplay

BOOK(S):  The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know Is Possible by Charles Eisenstein

Walls of Change: The Story of the Wynwood Walls by Jessica Goldman Srebnick, Franklin Sirmans, Martha Cooper (Photographer), Hal Rubenstein (Introduction)

POEM:  Textbook Statistics by Arkaye Kierulf

On average, 5 people are born every second and 1.78 die.

So we’re ahead by 3.22, which is good, I think.

The average person will spend two weeks in his life

waiting for the traffic light to change.

Pubescent girls wait two to four years

for the tender lumps under their nipples to grow.

So the average adult has over 1,460 dreams a year,

laughs 15 times a day. Children, 385 more times.

So the average male adult mates 2,580 times with five different people

but falls in love only twice in his life—possibly

with the same person. Seventy-nine long years for each of us,

awakened to love in our twenties, so more or less

thirty years to love our two lovers each. And if, in a lifetime,

one walks a total of 13,640 miles by increments,

Where are you headed, traveler?

is a valid philosophical question to pose to a man, I think, along with

Why does the blood in your veins travel endlessly?

on account of those red cells flowing night and day

through the traffic of the blood vessels, which if laid out

in a straight line would be over 90,000 miles long.

The great Nile River in Egypt is 4,180 miles long.

The great circle of the earth’s equator is 24,903 miles.

Dividing this green earth among all of us

gives a hundred square feet of living space to each,

but our brains take only one square foot of it,

along with the 29 bones of the skull, so

if you look outside your window with your mind only,

why do you hear the housefly hum middle octave, key of F?

If you listen to the cat on the rug by the fire with

the 32 muscles in your ear, you will hear

100 different vocal sounds. Listen to the dog

wishing for your love: 10 different sounds.

If you think loneliness is beyond calculation,

think of the mole digging a tunnel underground

ninety-eight miles long to China

in one single night. If you think beauty escapes you

or your entire genealogical tree, consider the slug

with its four uneven noses, or the chameleon shifting colors

under an arbitrary light. Think of the deepest point

in the deepest ocean, the Marianas Trench in the Pacific,

do you think anyone’s sadness can be deeper? In 1681,

the last dodo bird died. In the 16th century,

Queen Elizabeth suffered from a fear of roses.

Anne Boleyn had six fingers. People fall in love

twice. The human heart beats 3 billion times — only — in a lifetime.

If you attempt to count all the stars in the galaxy, one

every second, it’ll take 3 thousand years, if you’re lucky.

As owls are the only birds that can see the color blue

the ocean is bluish, along with the sky and the eyes

of that boy who died alone by that little unnamed river

in your dreams one blue night of the war

of one of your lives. (Do you remember which one?)

Duration of World War 1: four years, 3 months, 14 days.

Duration of an equatorial sunset: 128 seconds, 142 tops.

A neuron’s impulse takes 1/1000 of a second,

a morning’s commute from Prospect Expressway

to the Brooklyn Bridge, about 90 minutes,

forty-five without traffic.

Time it takes for a flower to wilt after it’s cut from the stem: five days.

Time left our sun before it runs out of light: five billion years.

Hence the number of happy citizens under the red glow

of that sun: maybe 50% of us, 50% on good days, tops.

Number who are sad: maybe 70% on the good days—

especially on the good days. (The first emotion’s more intense, I think,

when caught up with the second.) So children grow faster in the summer,

their bright blue bodies expanding. The ocean, after all, is blue

which is why the sky now outside your window is bluish

expanding with the white of something beautiful, like clouds.

Fact: The world is a beautiful place—once in a while.

Another fact: We fall in love twice. Maybe more, if we’re lucky.

QUOTE:  "We are all dreamers creating the next world, the next beautiful world for ourselves and for our children." ~ Yoko Ono

I Need a Doctor (The Nields)

Everything's fine (as far as I know).  Just an update that I went in for a *routine* check-up this past Wednesday, October 14.

After our lovely beach getaway, Sarah ("chocolate and rainboots" indeed... 💖) said that the best birthday present I could give her would be a doctor's appointment, and she actually made one for me (guess she figured if it worked for the chiropractor, she could do it for my GP!).  Shamefacedly, I admit that my last time going in was October 2017 (three years ago).  

I have no reason to believe my health is anything other than stellar (being vegan helps, right?), but there was bloodwork and an EKG and urine specimens (oh my!), therefore fasting.  Same old, same old, you know?  Also had a flu shot while I was there.

She and I talked a lot about self-care during the pandemic, emotional as well as physical.  My blood pressure skewed high the first few times (I have "white coat syndrome", not to mention the fact I was out in public, as I rarely leave the condo complex), then came down a bit the third and fourth tries.  I told her that I *really* didn't want to start on any medication, and asked her if I could have another month to lower it through diet and exercise, and she agreed.  (Aside:  my walking streak is in the double digits:  Day 11!!!)

She also wrote "prescriptions" for a bone density test, a mammogram, and a colonoscopy (can't wait to be x-rayed, smushed, and rectally-violated... 😃 )

Wednesday of next week, she and I will have a tele-visit to discuss test results, as well as my one-month follow-up visit.  I feel good about being back on track with my health, and taking even *better* care of myself... 💓

P.S.  Not as many check-ins with friends as last week, but always a treat:  Monday pool day with Nancy, weekly Tuesday Zoom call with Nancy and Judi, visit with Eileen yesterday afternoon, and phone chat with RobbyG starting in a few minutes!

NR:  A Mother's Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of Tragedy by Sue Klebold

SONG:  I Need a Doctor by The Nields

BOOK:  I Wrote This for You by Iain S. Thomas

POEM(S):  The Metronome Tree by Iain S. Thomas

Forget about your lists, and do what you can because that's all you can do. 

Phone up the people you miss and tell them you love them. 

Hug those close to you as hard as you can. 

Because you are always only a drunk driver's stupidity, a nervous shopkeeper's mistake, a doctor's best attempts, and an old age away from forever.

“B” (If I Should Have a Daughter) by Sarah Kay

If I should have a daughter, instead of mom, she’s going to call me Point B,

because that way she knows that no matter what happens,

at least she can always find her way to me.

And I am going to paint the Solar Systems on the backs of her hands,

so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say ‘Oh, I know that like the back of my hand’

And she’s going to learn that this life will hit you,

hard,

in the face,

wait for you to get back up, just so it can kick you in the stomach

but getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt, fear that cannot be fixed by band aids or poetry

so the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming

I’ll make sure she knows she does not have to wear the cape all by herself

because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers,

your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.

Believe me, I’ve tried

And baby, I’ll tell her, don’t keep your nose up in the air like that

I know that trick, I’ve done it a million times

You’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail

back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire

to see if you can save him.

Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place to see if you can change him

But I know she will anyway, so instead, I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate

and rainboots nearby.

Because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.

Ok, there’s a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix,

but that’s what the rainboots are for because rain will

wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass bottomed boat

To look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind

Because that’s the way my mom taught me.

That there’ll be days like this

that there’s be days like this my mama said

When you open your hands to catch, and wind up with only blisters and bruises.

When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly

And the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape

When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment

and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you

because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop

kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it is sent away.

You will put the win in winsome … lose some

You will put the star in starting over and over.

And no matter how many landmines erupt in a minute

be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.

And yes, on a scale from one to overtrusting, I am pretty damn naive.

But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar.

It can crumble so easily.

But don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

Baby, I’ll tell her, remember your mama is a worrier

and your papa is a warrior.

And you’re the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.

Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things and

always apologize when you’ve done something wrong

but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining,

your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing.

And when they finally hand you a heartache,

when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street corners

of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that

they

really ought to meet your mother.

QUOTE:  "The best doctors in the world are Doctor Diet, Doctor Quiet, and Doctor Merryman." ~ Jonathan Swift

The Parting Glass (so many covers, so little time!)

No personal commentary now, but I loved the way the various parts of this post came together for me today from random corners of The Universe... 💞

SONG:  The Parting Glass by Hozier

BOOK:  Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change by Maggie Smith  

POEM:  The Opposite of Nostalgia by Eric Gamalinda

You are running away from everyone

who loves you,

from your family,

from old lovers, from friends.

They run after you with accumulations

of a former life, copper earrings,

plates of noodles, banners

of many lost revolutions.

You love to say the trees are naked now

because it never happens

in your country. This is a mystery

from which you will never

recover. And yes, the trees are naked now,

everything that still breathes in them

lies silent and stark

and waiting. You love October most

of all, how there is no word

for so much splendor.

This, too, is a source

of consolation. Between you and memory

everything is water. Names of the dead,

or saints, or history.

There is a realm in which

---no, forget, it,

it’s still too early to make anyone understand.

A man drives a stake

through his own heart

and afterwards the opposite of nostalgia

begins to make sense: he stops raking the leaves

and the leaves take over

and again he has learned

to let go.

QUOTE:  "Things turn out best for the people who make the best of the way things turn out." ~ Robert Frost (thanks, Sheryl!)

A Little Bit of Everything (Dawes)

In my opinion, Kamala Harris kicked *ss in the best possible way in Wednesday night's Vice Presidential Debate!  She was prepared, articulate, firm but respectful.  I also loved her smirks and critical eyebrows (which were basically her substitute for giving Pence the finger, or yelling B*llshit!).  As a woman, I am so tired of the whole interrupting, lecturing, mansplaining thing.  It's so rude and minimizing.  "I am speaking".  She handled it/him very well.  Who uses the word existential in a political arena?  Kamala!  She brought me joy and compassion, as well as information, plus her voice is mellifluous... 😊  Best thing Biden did was bring her on the ticket.  Can't wait to have her as our next VP... 💗

I am trying to stay positive-speaking and -thinking, but... this (ha ha ha ha ha!) 

I've also been concentrating on three important aspects during this pandemic which keep me moving forward:  recognizing growth opportunities... controlling what I can... gratitude.  In addition to reading like a motherf*cker, my new (again) walking routine, and music, I have resurrected the habit of talking to special friends during the week, which goes a long-way toward radical self-care.  Two hours *each* with Linda, Michele, Melanie, and Laurie left me hoarse, with cauliflower ear, and so very refilled, rejuvenated, and refreshed (also a lovely in-person porch visit with Nance, and two dear Zoom sessions on Tuesday, both morning and evening).  As Dar sings, in Arrival:

My friends give me purple flowers and orange tea

On goosedown spilling quilts and turquoise chairs

We greet each other in a wild profusion of words

And wave farewell amidst the wonderment of air

And in the laughing times we know that we are lucky

And in the quiet times we know that we are blessed

And we will not be alone

Hey, I haven't offered up a Feel Good Friday post in a while.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy! 

~ A ‘Great Gatsby’ Quote Takes On New Resonance:  But the passage shared over the past few days by educators, writers and veterans of past presidential administrations came from an unlikely source: F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel about greed and aspiration published nearly a century ago.

“They were careless people.  They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

~ Don't Drink & Debate Smirnoff commercial

~ A fly that landed on Pence’s head for more than two minutes became a star on social media.  "A brief history of presidential politics and flies" from Morning Joe (thanks to Nance for the heads-up!).

~ Thanks to Michele for the heads-up on Last Tango in Halifax, which I am excited to begin watching (on Netflix).

~ Melanie sent me this recipe, which I am looking forward to trying.  Yum!

NR:  In the Dream House: A Memoir by Carmen Maria Machado

SONG:  A Little Bit of Everything by Dawes

BOOK:  The Problem with Everything: My Journey Through the New Culture Wars by Meghan Daum

POEM:  Everything Is Waiting For You by David Whyte

(after Derek Mahon)

Your great mistake is to act the drama

as if you were alone.  As if life

were a progressive and cunning crime

with no witness to the tiny hidden

transgressions.  To feel abandoned is to deny

the intimacy of your surroundings.  Surely,

even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

out your solo voice.  You must note

the way the soap dish enables you,

or the window latch grants you freedom.

Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

The stairs are your mentor of things

to come, the doors have always been there

to frighten you and invite you,

and the tiny speaker in the phone

is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into

the conversation.  The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last.  All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves.  Everything is waiting for you.

QUOTE:  "To be called ruthless a man must be Joe McCarthy, a woman just has to put you on hold." ~ Marlo Thomas

The Long Way Home (Mary Chapin Carpenter)

I had been vowing to get back into my walking routine (long-overdue and much-missed) and yesterday was that day.  Woke up with twitchy legs (always a good sign), drank a giant glass of water, laced up my New Balances, and walked out my front door... whereupon Rain King by Counting Crows came on my Pandora, and a giant bird flew across my line of vision, surely a sign from The Universe:

When I think of heaven

Deliver me in a black-winged bird

I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers

And all other instruments of faith and sex and god

I started out entirely too fast, but then got into my groove.  Other than a few walks with my son Rob at his place, it had been months since I'd seriously gotten out for a trek around the complex, and definitely not since they re-opened the golf course.  Such fond memories of taking advantage of all the winding paths throughout where now, again, I'm restricted to the outskirts.  It was sweet, though... beautiful morning, out the door by 9:15, wonderful and diverse music to accompany.  I finally broke down and paid the $5 a month (price of a Starbucks Matcha Green Tea Latte with coconut milk) Pandora charges to go ad-free, plus unlimited skips (meaning, no more spooky Halloween soundtrack at dusk).  Gamechanger!

The route I chose took me 45 minutes, but I can add on bits and pieces throughout the complex to eventually get myself up to an hour.  I thought about structuring a walking schedule but, because I love, and missed, it so much, I'm just going to plan on every day, weather-permitting.  In South Florida, one has to be that flexible.

Did I say that I feel great?!?... :-)

P.S.  Day Two in the books, 45 minutes again; I count time, not distance.  I have always been a fast walker, and now my goal is to lengthen my stride, which provides a nice stretch throughout the route.

NR:  Monogamy by Sue Miller (whoa!)

SONG:  The Long Way Home by Mary Chapin Carpenter

BOOK:  In Praise of Walking: A New Scientific Exploration Hardcover by Shane O'Mara

POEM:  Talk about Walking by Philip Booth

Where am I going? I'm going

out, out for a walk. I don't

know where except outside.

Outside argument, out beyond

wallpapered walls, outside

wherever it is where nobody

ever imagines. Beyond where

computers circumvent emotion,

where somebody shorted specs

for rivets for airframes on

today's flights. I'm taking off

on my own two feet. I'm going

to clear my head, to watch

mares'-tails instead of TV,

to listen to trees and silence,

to see if I can still breathe.

I'm going to be alone with

myself, to feel how it feels

to embrace what my feet

tell my head, what wind says

in my good ear. I mean to let

myself be embraced, to let go

feeling so centripetally old.

Do I know where I'm going?

I don't. How long or far

I have no idea. No map. I

said I was going to take

a walk. When I'll be back

I'm not going to say.

QUOTE:  "Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking." ~ Antonio Machado

All It Would Take (Semisonic)

A haiku (courtesy of the Twitter bot @nythaikus):

So I will have a

chocolate and I will be

better tomorrow

I think all I'm going to say is that I can relate entirely too well to today's post (and I'm not telling which parts... 😆 )

SONG:  All It Would Take by Semisonic (thanks to Judi for the heads-up to this amazing song, and band... 💖)

BOOK:  The Wild Unknown Tarot Deck and Guidebook by Kim Krans

POEM:  Fireflies by Cecilia Woloch

And these are my vices:
impatience, bad temper, wine,
the more than occasional cigarette,
an almost unquenchable thirst to be kissed,
a hunger that isn't hunger
but something like fear, a staunching of dread
and a taste for bitter gossip
of those who've wronged me—for bitterness—
and flirting with strangers and saying sweetheart
to children whose names I don't even know
and driving too fast and not being Buddhist
enough to let insects live in my house
or those cute little toylike mice
whose soft grey bodies in sticky traps
I carry, lifeless, out to the trash
and that I sometimes prefer the company of a book
to a human being, and humming
and living inside my head
and how as a girl I trailed a slow-hipped aunt
at twilight across the lawn
and learned to catch fireflies in my hands,
to smear their sticky, still-pulsing flickering
onto my fingers and earlobes like jewels.

QUOTE:  "The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little." ~ Thomas Merton

Slouching Towards Bethlehem (Joni Mitchell)

[thanks to Judi for this amazing graphic!]

We interrupt this previously-scheduled post (as if you didn't know already, unless you live under a rock!) to share that President Donald Trump and his wife Melania have tested positive for the coronavirus.  All I care to say at this point is that, tempting as it is, I am not wishing him death; I do, however, hope he feels a serious impact from the virus:  physically, emotionally, politically.  Can you say Karma?

Also, thanks to Sarah for this a few hours ago:

@johnmlester

Replying to 

@AngrierWHStaff

Looks like RBG successfully argued her first hearing with the lord

1:33 AM · Oct 2, 2020·Twitter for Android

I watched the first of the Presidential debates Tuesday night, and I'm still, a few days later, more than a bit shaken.  

MSNBC had a wonderful hour prior during which, before a segment with Hillary Clinton (as the only person who had debated Trump previously, four years ago), Rachel Maddow talked about Hillary having a crystal ball four years ago, and showed clips from the various encounters.  Frightening.  Validating.

I love the trifecta of Maddow, Joy Reid, and Niccole Wallace, both pre- and post-political events.  They warned that Biden needed to stick to his message and *not take the bait* from Trump but, unfortunately, that is exactly what happened.  The debate was described by CNN anchor Jake Tapper as "a hot mess inside a dumpster fire inside a train wreck" and by CNN correspondent Dana Bash more succinctly as "a shitshow."  I was very disappointed, which segued to pissed, that Biden allowed himself to succumb to Trump's tactics, admittedly difficult amidst the constant interruptions, falsehoods, and attacks.  Biden could have done without his own comments of racist, liar, clown, worst president ever, and shut up (even though we know they're all true).  He lowered his standards, when he could/should have risen above (yes, even when his own sons' reputations were impugned).  The best thing he did, toward the end, is that he began to talk to the camera (the constituency) in a calm collected manner about what he will do to get our country back on track.

The evening left me traumatized and anxious and, after listening to more Rachel and company, I had the proverbial epiphany.  They compared him to an abuser and, having grown up in a household where my father later became exactly that (physically as well as emotionally with my mother and brother; emotionally to myself and my sister), I recognized the signs.  Yelling is a trigger for me; I don't hear words, only volume, and I shut down.  Because Trump is all about power and control (and money), I realized he was abusing Biden, Chris Wallace (the moderator), and the American people by subjecting us to his irrational tirade.

Also, Rachel won the Internet with logorrhea... 😲

To be continued...

P.S. Did you know that today is World Smile Day (celebrated the first Friday in October)? Why do we have a world smile day? The story begins with the creation of the smiley face by Harvey Ball in 1963. As the commercialization of the smiley face was running rampant, Harvey believed the true meaning of the smiley face was being lost. Therefore, he started World Smile Day to have one special day to remind us to smile and give acts of kindness. 

P.P.S  I am so saddened by something I read in my UUCFL (former church) newsletter.  He was a wonderful person as well as sound guy, and my altar is ablaze for his smooth transition:  Tripp Page, a long time member of UUCFL, has entered hospice care in his new home in Hilo, Hawa'ii. Tripp was a big part of the Labyrinth Cafe at UUCFL. He was a dear friend to many... 💔

NR:  The Day the World Came to Town: 9/11 in Gander, Newfoundland by Jim DeFede  (excellent, so far!)

SONG:  Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joni Mitchell (based on the text of Second Coming, a poem by William Butler Yeats)

BOOK:  An Illustrated Book of Bad Arguments by Ali Almossawi, Alejandro Giraldo (Illustrator)

POEM:  Momentum 2016 by Eileen Myles

for Hillary Clinton

How perfect the American sky out there
Innocent perhaps of our goings on
Let everyone turn around once one day
Let them pull the lever, write your name
Awesome the keenness of your focus, Hill
Regarding debating, regarding knowing
You inspire me to stay still, to act
You probably had breakfast this morning
Oregon was one of your stops
Understanding the northwest is part of your job
Remembering everyday a woman chooses to keep running
Every day you learn more
Meet more people
You daily become our president
May every inch of this journey
And every moment of your female campaign unabashedly
Nail it like the girl I met at breakfast at Marfa Burrito. Her name? Victory!

[My note:  More Americans voted for Hillary Clinton than any other losing presidential candidate in US history.  The Democrat outpaced President-elect Donald Trump by almost 2.9 million votes, with 65,844,954 (48.2%) to his 62,979,879 (46.1%), according to revised and certified final election results from all 50 states and the District of Columbia.]

QUOTE:  “Watching that debate was like hot-boxing a port-a-potty with crystal meth. In Phoenix. In July. It was like being hit on the head with a lead pipe in a room filled with nitrous oxide. It was like watching a two-person performance of ‘12 Angry Men’ where one actor played one part and one was mad enough for the other 11.” ~ Seth Meyers