The Maternal Claws Emerge

An interesting Saturday. A bat mitzvah in the morning, a cousin's birthday party in the evening and, for me, bonus time with my nineteen-month-old niece.

Or so I thought.

My sister-in-law (mother to my niece) asserted herself on a couple of issues yesterday. During services, my niece got a little restless (as expected) and she started babbling loudly. I gently put a couple of fingers over her mouth, and my SIL said, "Marcia, don't do that" and pulled her from my lap.

Next, at lunch in the synagogue, I just casually mentioned I was concerned about the growing intolerance in the rural areas and worried that my niece might be targeted in school. My brother seemed to agree, and we talked about her going to Ladue, but my sister declared that Ladue was filled with snobs. Never mind that it's a good school, that it's diverse, that parents are involved and education standards are high. I suppose if that's snobby, I'm having trouble finding a problem with it.

Well... okay. She's entitled to her opinion and ultimately it's none of my business.

Last night, my niece was moved from lap to lap between me, my SIL and my cousin. Stupid me thought she needed to walk around a bit, so I took her outside to the patio and around the pool area, carrying her. I put her down and held her hand as we walked back to the the clubhouse. She let go and started running and I went after her, but saw that she was running toward her mother. Her mother picked her up and said, "She's too close to the pool. I don't want her taking off on you."

Confused, I said, "Okay." She was holding onto my hand just fine until her mother showed up.

I accompanied her back to the doorway of the clubhouse, at which time, SIL said as if she needed to explain herself further, "She just takes off sometimes and I don't want anything to happen."

I gently replied, "I wouldn't have let anything happen." I may be fat, but I'm faster than a 19-month-old with only five months of running experience.

"Oh, I know," she answered brightly. "It's just it's Aunt Mimi's party, and I wouldn't want anything to ruin it."

"Okay," I said, suitably chastised for yet a third time that day. And now a bit hurt.

I decided not to follow her into the clubhouse, so I headed back out and walked around the pool in the dark, trying very hard not to cry. I was successful. Somewhat.

I ended up in the other side of the clubhouse and went into the ladies room, thinking I could be alone, but there was my cousin Sandy, the birthday girl. Bright and happy that about 100 friends and family showed up to surprise her for her 50th birthday.

I sobered up, determined not to ruin her party with my own private pity party.

"Hey, you gonna do karaoke with me?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think so. I don't have nearly as much wine in me for that," I smiled. I only had diet coke.

I followed Sandy back out to the crowd and saw that my brother was geared up and ready to leave. I chit-chatted with him briefly, not bothering to mention his wife's averting a tragedy by pre-emptively saving their daughter from drowning due to my neglect and subsequently ruining Sandy's party. SIL emerges with my niece in her arms and I put on the cheerful face to say goodbye.

My niece reached for me and my SIL let me take her. I carried her out to the car, because walking and holding her hand is just a formula for disaster. I chatted away, giving my niece kisses along the way. When we got to the car, I gave her back to her mother to put her in her car seat. My niece reached for me again, and I just gave her kisses and got out of the way. I said my good-byes, told my brother I hoped his foot felt better, and headed back into the clubhouse.

I was eventually talked into singing karaoke with my cousins. Which I'm glad I did. We sang Drift Away, then We Are Family. I really need to get them into my life more.

Today, I'm just tired. Still confused. Still hurt.

Can't wait for next week when my insane sister blows into town with her socially retarded husband.

Oh, it's great to be me.

UPDATE: I received an apology by email sent around 4:30 a.m. She admitted to having overreacted but that she didn't know where her daughter went. She assured me that she trusts me, then suggested a dinner date for me and my niece this week. I apologized for assuming she'd seen me with her and promised to make sure to tell her next time. I hope to be taking my sweet little girl to McDonald's or Red Robin next week.

The sister/brother-in-law coming to town issue still hangs in the air like mustard gas. I just hope they're serving a lot of wine at my aunt's book signing next Sunday or that my brother doses up on Flexaril for the weekend.

Oh my...

Nuff said.

In Defense of MoveOn.org...

With more and more people getting arrested for wearing t-shirts that are not obscene and anti-war, or pulled away from microphones and tased for asking a question, it's really disturbing how many people don't give a shit that freedom of speech is under attack. Even more that habeaus corpus is gone, or that the Pentagon is being sued because certain members of the military are being intimidated for being atheists/agnostics/non-Christian.

Don't you know this?

Don't you care?

Are ya gonna sit there and HOPE it gets better?

We have become of nation of enablers to political alcoholics.

While conservative dickwad John Cornyn (R-TX) manufactured yet another outrage, the spineless Democratic congress decided to ignore war and poverty and healthcare and education to pursue a toothless resolution condemning MoveOn.org for GETTING IT RIGHT.

Of course, Petraeus' military service is admirable, but he allowed himself to be pushed into a role of setting and selling the Bush policy. Just like McClellan, just like McArthur, once you cross that line, you're no longer a military man, you're a politician. And you're fair game.

Cenk of The Young Turks (and a former Republican) says it way better than I can:



Go Cenk!

That H.L. Mencken was One Smart Cookie

I learn something new every day when I watch Countdown with Keith Olbermann on MSNBC. Tonight he introduced his Oddball segment by reading a quote from H.L. Mencken. The quote was so incredibly apropos, it bears repeating:

When a candidate for public office faces the voters he does not face men of sense; he faces a mob of men whose chief distinguishing mark is the fact that they are quite incapable of weighing ideas, or even of comprehending any, save the most elemental — men whose whole thinking is done in terms of emotion, and whose dominant emotion is dread of what they cannot understand. So confronted, the candidate must either bark with the pack or be lost...

All the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.' The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.

Baltimore Sun (26 July 1920)

Day-am...

Okay, it's not at all surprising what direction my brain went after reading this, but I wonder about the political context of Mencken's time. How profoundly astute and even prophetic, given the fact that there is indeed a downright moron adorning the White House.

I thoroughly enjoyed chuckling with Olbermann's studio crew over this one.

Colin Powell for President! No, really - I'm totally serious!

I always thought Colin Powell was an honorable man who was swept up in the frenzy and optimism (*retch*) of a new Administration. But 9/11 changed so much about everyone - even the best and brightest of us. The cooked intelligence surrounding Bush's phantom imminent threat of WMD from Saddam, as well as the conflating of Iraq with Al Qaeda, led Powell to the UN to make the case for war. General Powell's commitment to serve at the pleasure of a folksy, dry drunk caused him to meet his credibility Waterloo.

But the man's redeemed himself in my view. Actually, he redeemed himself by walking away from the boy king. He joins many other good and decent men who've walked rather than deal with Bush and company - John Danforth, Paul O'Neill, James Comey, among others.

The September 10, 2007 issue of GQ Magazine, General Powell gives a wonderful and insightful interview. He says everything I've been feeling about the dangers we face and the fact that, okay yeah, we're vulnerable, but let's not let that destroy who we are. Moreover, HE OFFERS SOLUTIONS - what a friggin' concept!

From GQ:

What is the greatest threat facing us now? People will say it’s terrorism. But are there any terrorists in the world who can change the American way of life or our political system? No. Can they knock down a building? Yes. Can they kill somebody? Yes. But can they change us? No. Only we can change ourselves.

I would approach this differently, in almost Marshall-like terms. What are the great opportunities out there—ones that we can take advantage of? It should not be just about creating alliances to deal with a guy in a cave in Pakistan. It should be about how do we create institutions that keep the world moving down a path of wealth creation, of increasing respect for human rights, creating democratic institutions, and increasing the efficiency and power of market economies? This is perhaps the most effective way to go after terrorists.

And one more:

Let’s show the world a face of openness and what a democratic system can do. That’s why I want to see Guantánamo closed. It’s so harmful to what we stand for. We literally bang ourselves in the head by having that place. What are we doing this to ourselves for? Because we’re worried about the 380 guys there? Bring them here! Give them lawyers and habeas corpus. We can deal with them. We are paying a price when the rest of the world sees an America that seems to be afraid and is not the America they remember.

Back to me:

The worst thing the terrorists can do to us is change who we are. And they are winning. Bright, intelligent people think it's okay to torture human beings, that Abu Ghraib doesn't need to be examined too closely lest we disgust ourselves with the truth of our government's behavior, that the military industrial complex Dwight D. Eisenhower warned us about in the 1950's doesn't require close scrutiny, that civil liberties should be sacrificed in favor of security, that the U.S. Constitution is an overly optimistic and dated document that doesn't address the needs of today and should be ignored.

Based on the last six years - war profiteering, the loss of Habeus Corpus, warrantless wiretapping, the Military Commissions Act, certain provisions of the Patriot Act, the pronouncement of the Geneva Conventions as "quaint", torture (euphemistically referred to as "rendition"), Abu Ghraib, GITMO, loss of worldwide credibility - this generation will certainly not be remembered as America's finest, not ever. I don't care how many nations the Shrub says we need to invade to fight his ridiculous "war on terrorism". (That man is INSANE and needs psychological help.) We will be thought of as the German people were at the end of WWII.

Colin Powell is brilliant, and I wish he would run for president on an Independent ticket. As undecided as I am right now about who to vote for, he would totally rock my world. Somebody needs to.

9/11: America the Victimized

First of all, I sincerely honor the memories of those men, women and children who lost their lives to the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. My heart goes out to their friends and family. There will never be another September 11 that passes now or ever that I will not think of them and that frightening, appalling day six years ago.

And now, the commentary... and I am addressing the living.

Calling for a troop withdrawal "emboldens the enemy".

Horse shit.

A local disc jockey said it best. We have become a nation of victims. Just think: some idiot terrorist in training, running around in the 130-degree heat of the desert, climbing monkey bars, taking target practice, recognizes it's 9/11, and sees that after six fucking years, America - 300,000,000 people - is still licking its wounds.

Imagine how goddamned emboldening THAT is to that black-hooded shlemiel running around in the desert.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt once said, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

King George W. Bush says, "Be afraid. I like you afraid. You'll believe anything I tell you when you're afraid."

Great Britain suffered through two World Wars, through the terrorist bombings of the Irish Republican Army, through the subway bombings in London. Do they mark those special days by beating their chests in grief? Do they rend their clothing? Do they relive those anniversaries with hours and hours of replaying six-year-old media coverage, dramatic films and historical re-enactments?

No. They give these tragedies their due reverence and honor, then they pick themselves up and move the fuck on. And they're not afraid.

America was knocked to its knees and has been whining and lashing out like a tantrum-throwing child ever since. And what a gullible, lazy, distracted, clueless, apathetic and undereducated bunch of children we are.

Get up, America. For the love of God, let's remember who we are. We're America. We aren't afraid of freedom. We aren't afraid of civil liberties. We aren't afraid of anything.

Wipe your collective asses, stand up and flush.

Proselytizing Rebuked!

As I exited my car in the parking lot at Schnuck's today, two young men in white shirts, black ties and black pants approached and asked to speak with me. (UPDATE: With apologies to the unnamed cult, which I had previously thought was the source of my irritation, here is a more accurate representation of a different religious sect that attempted to save my soul. Note: the boys I encountered were not riding bicycles, and we were not on the surface of the moon.)

"No, thank you!" I replied hurriedly moving along, noticing the black plastic nametags with "Jesus Christ" embossed underneath their names.

They followed me even as I doubled back to lock my car.

Cultist #2: "Are you sure we couldn't talk to you a bit about [insert favorite God/Jesus/gospel reference]?"

"Yep, I'm sure," I said pressing the button on the door handle, then moving toward the store entrance again. "Have a great day!" I called.

"Thank you. You too." Cultist #1 called.

"Hey, did you just lock your door with that button?" Cultist #2 asked.

"Yeah," I said, still walking and not looking at them.

"That's really cool!" he said, the two of them creepily following me.

Resisting the urge to turn around and proselytize about getting Prius, I said, "Yep, it's a pretty cool little car," just as I stepped on the automatic door opener. Thankfully, the two zombies didn't follow me inside, but I had the wherewithal to watch where they were headed next, which, thankfully, was away from my car.

Personal (and possibly provocative) commentary: Okay, how fucking insecure is your faith that you have to walk around in pairs, seeking out individuals in a strip mall like Dick Cheney on a quail hunt, imposing upon them to steal a half-hour of their lives they'll never get back, just so you can dazzle them with your breathtakingly absurd dogma?

Proselytizing cultist nutjobs should never approach a liberal, Jewish, middle-aged woman with PMS and an attitude.