Three Sum

The last time

I had dinner

with someone

I didn’t

know

was a few

months 

ago

by 

the pool

with

other friends

in common.

It was not

random.

We were

introduced

intentionally.

We realized

that,

like us,

they used 

to live

in Connecticut.

The guys 

play golf.

Commonalities.

We shared

likes and

dislikes. 

We would

learn more

background

each 

gathering.

In sum,

we were

introduced

with knowledge 

of some

sameness:

shared

experiences,

people,

and likes…

conversation

starters.

Imagine

sharing

a meal

with

a like 

minded

friend

(supporter)

and their

like 

minded

friend.

A conversation

starter,

“Nice 

to meet

you.”

Even

as

racist

white supremacist

neo

nazis

are the

dinner

companions!!

It was 

just

dinner, 

with 

gross

bigots—

whose calling cards 

are crazy 

bigotry—

who 

we can

only hope 

get

just

deserts.

They 

may

be

three

stooges,

but

their

audience

is

weaponized 

and

eager.

The sum

total

of the

dinner

is 

the horror

of hate–

racism

and

antisemitism

metastasizing

rapidly

as

the “dinner

party”

stayed

silent and

complicit.

Trickles 

of 

rejection

days

after

knowingly

avoiding

and

trying 

to balance

what?

Not 

staying aligned

with

a loser, 

versus 

aligning

with

hate

and

abetting violence

by abiding

all.

Put On Your Nancy Pants

Put on

Your

Nancy

Pants.

They 

Make

That 

Guy’s

Ass

Look 

Big.

Well,

He’s 

A

Huge

Ass

Anyway,

But the

Contrast

Couldn’t 

Be

Greater. 

Politics

Aside,

Her

Skill,

Ability.

Facility,

Strength.

Acuity–

A Bad

Ass

Wrapped

In

Decency

And

Dignity

Who

Understands

Governance

And models

Leadership

Like no

Other

Who has

Walked

That

Path–

Steps

Aside.

Before

A

Crisis,

There

Is

An

Opportunity

To

Follow

Suit.

Unlike 

The

Supremes

Who

Did

Not

Choose

Grace,

Or country

First,

Madame

Speaker

Defines

Accomplishment,

Grit,

Determination,

And poise,

Despite

The noise.

Whatever

Path 

You

Walk,

Put on

Your 

Nancy

Pants. 

Costume Party

It’s

That

Time

Of

Year

When 

We are

Treated

To 

Tricks

Of the

Trade of

Politics.

I learned

The term

“Ballot

Mules”

As 

“Mule

Watchers”

Deputized

Themselves

To Guard

Against

Fraud

At

Drop

Boxes

Anywhere.

Dressed

In

Tactical

Gear,

Armed 

For

Battle

with

Guns

Against 

Ballots,

One

Party

Spreads 

Fear

By 

Insinuation,

Intimidation,

Instigation,

Imitation,

And threats.

Wearing

Fatigues

Vested

With weaponry

Is hardly

A show

Of strength

Or power.

Who 

Is

Afraid

Now?

The ones

Who are

Armed to

The teeth!

Suggesting

Violent

Resolution 

And

Insurrection

In

The name

Of

Patriotism

Is 18th 

And 19th

Century

Cosplay.

21st Century

America

Has become

Wearing

And

Fatigued.

Terrified 

of

Losing

Power,

They 

Are

Dressed

To Kill.

We are

Battling

The Costumed

Party.

Vote

Democratically. 

Dis-cuss:

Disquiet

Discomfort

Disturbing

Disempowering

Displaying

Disaffection

Distorting

Disagreeably

Disallowing

Disambiguating

Disapproval

Disavowing

Discarding

Discernment,

Disciples

Disclaim

Discomfiting

Disconnected

Discord

Discouragingly

Discovering

Discredited

Discrete

Dishonesties.

Disengaged

Disinformed

Dishonroable

Dismissive

Disintegrating

Disjuncture

Disseminating

Disorder

Disowning

Distracting

Disreputable

Disputes,

Disgracefully

Discussing

Disingenuous

Disintegration.

Work

It’s

Working

For

Now.

Fear 

Is

The combustible

Engine

We drive

Barely

Navigating

This dirt

Road— 

Narrow,

Bumpy, 

Endless.

Dead

End

Signs

Everywhere,

Looking

For

Off

Ramps,

Seeing

Nothing

But

Torment.

Exhausted,

Thirsty,

Without

Appetite

Being

Responsible

Despite

Everything.

Is

This

Being

Responsible?

Barely

Surviving;

Constantly

Depleted?

Objects

In

Mirror

Are 

Closer

Than 

They 

Appear.

Difficult

Choices

Increasingly

Limited,

Seeing

No

New

Options.

Not

A

Path

But

A ditch

From which

Wheels

Spin.

Ditch

The vehicle

Transporting

Nowhere

As this fear

Feels

Safer than

Others.

It’s 

Familiar,

Albeit

Amplified.

Convinced

That

Alternate

Routes

Do

Not

Exist

Now,

And

Alternate

Facts

Prevail,

Stop

Believing

This

Stuff!

Doing

Something

Else

Can work. 

Nervous System

Working in

aggregate,

coordinating

movement,

a network

of cells

sends 

signals;

agitating,

threatening,

overtaking,

oppressing

such that 

disorder

overwhelms;

paralyzing

developmental

processes,

limiting 

capacity,

as

patterns

reveal

themselves.

However

stuck

we

feel,

the knot

is 

not

all

the 

system

can

accomodate.

Post COVID Drip

Losing our

Sense

Of taste

And smell,

Leaving foul

Stench

And bitter

Notes

Lingering,

Polluting,

Enough 

To notice

Despite

Partially

Impaired

Functionality.

We can

Still

Smell

Rot

And taste

Resentment,

Spite,

Cruelty;

Evil

Disguised 

As

Victimhood.

The unthinkable

Keeps happening

Depriving

Innocents

And innocence.

Conspiracy

Marries

Weaponry

And the 

Inexplicable

Becomes

Tolerated,

Having lost

Taste.

Having lost

Sense.

Well Healed

COVID arrived 

Officially

On Friday

Afternoon

After

I chaperoned

My better

Half

To the 

Eye

Clinic

For surgery.

Masked

And only

Briefly

Present,

Encountering

Only

A couple

Assistants,

My role

As caregiver

Immediately

Disrupted

By 

Two

Parallel

Lines.

The frog

In my

Throat

Croaked,

And chills

And aches

And exhaustion

Ensued.

Now

I had

To be

Patient

And avoid

The patient

At all

Costs.

We separated

And sterilized

Our small

Space

Hoping to

Not make

Anything

Worse.

I was

Dreading

Feeling

Worse

As I

Have gotten

Accustomed

To feeling

Dread

Daily

For 

Years.

Chronic 

Conditions

Seem like

Zombies

Coming and

Going;

Returning,

Not leaving.

Healing

Often

Feels

Unusual.

Intractable 

Conditions

Suck

Energy.

Daily 

News

Breaks me

Daily.

It feels

As though

It may

Get worse

Knowing

That surely

It can

Get better

If only

People

Aided

Healing.

Meanwhile

I’m healing

From Covid

This week

Faster than 

I ever 

Remember

Healing

Before.

I was

Boosted.

It worked.

The genius

Human

Body

Works

Despite

Years

Of being

Convinced

Otherwise.

There is 

Still

Reality–

Not merely

Experience

Opinion

Or stories.

We may 

Feel

As though

We are

On the 

Titanic,

But we

Can

Still

Heal

With

Care .

Party Like It’s 1865

The party

Of Lincoln

Long

Gone,

Seceding

From itself

Like angry

Dangerous teens

With weapons

And platforms

Slamming

Doors

And stealing

The keys

To the

Car (and worse),

Driving

Just

To 

Drive, 

Enjoying

Owning

Anyone

Else.

Flailing, 

And easily

Stoked

And used,

A confederacy

Of evil

Corruption

Cynically

Separating

Devaluing

Threatening

Menacing

Deconstructing

Then

Reconstructing

With hate

And deception

Regardless

Of consequences

Anymore.

The party

Of Lincoln

Was

Assassinated.

Embracing

Violence

Claiming

Freedom

How free

Are we

In the

21st Century?

The anti

Elites

Fund

A “Billionaire”

Reconstruction

Begat

The KKK

After

The 14th

And

15th

Ammendments

Expanded

Citizenship 

And voting

Rights–

An expanding

Trajectory

Some seek

To contract.

But really 

Now 

It’s 

Power;

Pure,

Sickening

Power

Of Hate.

Queen of Hearts

News of The Queen’s death evoked a separation of hearts and minds. Her mere longevity provided continuity and some sort of steadfastness that was somehow comforting in its familiarity and otherworldliness. 

The Queen, of course, was Elizabeth II, whose reign approximated an average human lifespan. She was emblematic of life as a constancy. She sustained her throne as her empire shrank.  Her seeming sense of loyalty, duty, grace, stoicism —and yes, longevity—seemed to be the embodiment of the United Kingdom. She personified the UK. Well, she personified the aspiration or cultural myth of the UK in the way that the cowboy (and reality star) personified the USA.

She was feminine and strong. Hearty, hale, maternal and carrying a purse everywhere, she also exuded grace and dignity as power. In our minds, she was Claire Foy and Olivia Coleman, only after she was Helen Mirren. 

When news broke that The Queen had died, I was initially surprised, which surprised me. She was 96 and apparently in failing health recently. Not a great surprise. But because of The Queen Crafting, the news of her health was rather vague prior to her passing, and in no way indicated anything imminent. Like her life, her death was a matter of statecraft. 

Whatever attributes were associated with her stirred hearts and minds. My second thought upon the news of her death was how strange it is in this moment to grieve for the queen. The reflections of The Queen—Elizabeth II—as a towering figure who believed in her duties and service, and who I believe lived her life truly dedicated (whether or not is was self preservation), understood that she provided something necessary. Ironic, isn’t it? Monarchy is not necessary, yet she made it seem too important to discard.

I thought of how she manifested not just that with which we identify as British—that stiff upper lip, keeping calm and carrying on—and a country with deep history evidenced by relics of the Middle Ages, but how her maternalism has been so embraced. The one who was scorned for being the cold mother-in-law at a time of profound grief when Diana was tragically killed, somehow became the beloved old lady who was heartier than many people who were decades younger than she. (Of course, she didn’t really have to multitask that much.)

Hearts across the world yearn for steady, hearty, graceful, dignity. She maintained her depth of service and ability to keep calm and carry on through wars, terrorism, economic pain, loss of empire, Brexit, the COVID19 pandemic, and profound cultural changes that seem to accelerate each decade…not to mention her family soap opera that preceded her coronation and will undoubtedly follow her funeral. 

Americans gush over the pageantry that the Brits do magnificently. Americans adore it! The emotional reaction to all things The Crown/The Queen is somewhat bizarre to me at this juncture in our unfolding history. It’s easy to love competency and longevity in the face of unsettling events. And there are so few women leaders, much less of the stature of The Queen—THE Queen—that I had sadness that there are so few women of importance on the world stage. One more gone. Of course many saw her as irrelevant and the ultimate symbol of not only income inequality, blind privilege, and an indecent structure, but as the embodiment of imperialism and an anachronistic anti-democratic system that has no place in the modern world. 

I appreciate (and reacted to) those assessments almost simultaneously. What if the monarch were (a) Trump? I am profoundly anti-monarch. Elizabeth II may have been The Queen, and she certainly completed her life as The Queen of Hearts, beloved and admired. But in this moment, when authoritarianism is on the rise globally, and our own democracy is threatened daily from within, we need to check this gushing of absolute power. 

We have had what was once a unique, yet still magnificent, tradition of peaceful change. Our continuity was not displayed by gilded carriages (or buildings), or by DNA. Our political DNA includes change and oversight. Change is the constant here. Change every 4 or 8 years at the highest level demands broader and deeper thinking, participation, commitment to principles that must be shared (or at least driven by some level of consensus), where all people are represented and take part.

Never before have I felt such profound love and grief for the USA. Even 21 years ago, when the most terrifying and devastating event shocked us along with the rest of the world, I was in fear of instant annihilation, not a slow moving coup from within. Both are terrifying and also terribly sad. But this moment in our history makes my heart ache daily. I grieve not for The Queen, but for the loss of all that I cherished for humanity and that I thought was nurtured, if not born, here in the USA. 

The end of a regal woman’s life deserves appreciation. You may feel sad. I appreciate that. But be wary of loving The Monarchy. If we are seeking cultural myths and figures to uplift us, much less political solutions to current problems, then get busy participating in American Democracy and growing it, not watching it be dismantled.