the best Christmas song of all time

I was introduced to Christmas songs in Kindergarten.  Before then, I had not heard any, due to the simple fact that, there in 1956, I was a nice little Jewish boy in Upstate New York.

I remember enjoying the novelty of Kindergarten, under the watchful eye of Mrs.VanDerLip.  I met several similarly nice kids in those early years, a couple of whom I still regularly see on Facebook, but that's getting off-track.

A couple of months into my Public School life, where we had been doing 'art' and group singing, we were marched to a large hall and seated together.  Then, to my shock and discomfort, everybody cheerfully and enthusiastically began singing songs THAT I DIDN'T KNOW.  

For years, I had no clear idea who that 'round, young virgin' was, and I wondered if our next-door neighbor, who we called Uncle Harold, was related to those singing Harold Angels.

Eventually, when I realized that, in addition to being Jewish, I was left-handed, my life-long sense of being an Outsider was confirmed, but I'm getting off-track again.  

As a piano-player, I soon came to realize that Christmas songs, despite the frequent references to You-Know-Who, were A) generally more interesting musically than Hannukah songs and B) received with joy by the listeners, so I learned to play all of them.

Which finally brings me to the best Christmas song of all time.  Of course, it's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas".  The basic chords, the subtle but perfect evolution of the melodic line in each verse, and the wistful bridge, are all just right.  

Then there are the words, and we now have the perfect sense of Christmas 2020.

I do have one quibble.  If you watch the YouTube of Judy's original rendition in "Meet Me in St. Louis" (which you should), the phrase that was later rewritten as "hang a shining star upon the highest bough" was originally the much more realistic "until then we'll have to muddle through somehow". 

Think about THOSE words when you hear it sung this year.

See you in 2021.

a sincere question

A 'pro-Life' advocate was interviewed on NPR this morning, expressing her joy in the new member of the Supreme Court. 

I am, once again, struck by her central argument, that everything flows from the central belief (that word is not chosen casually) that, after conception, we are dealing with 'a human life'.

I presume these people have no major concern about the bazillion cows, pigs, sheep, and turkeys that are about to be massacred in the coming weeks, so it's clear that 'pro-Life' is strictly limited in its application.

Therefore, there must be something that places a paramount value on 'human life', vs. a 20-pound turkey's life.  To me, Life is Life (and, I admit, is biochemically pretty cool), whether it's my dog or the big maple tree that is dumping tons of leaves for me to deal with.

To my understanding (correct me if I'm off-base), their thinking of what distinguishes Human life from Animal or Plant life is encapsulated in the (historically-abused for various interests) term 'Divine'.  A Human embryo, containing the Divine spark, is valued far and above a cat embryo (ancient Egyptians would disagree, and rightly so, according to the creature sitting by this keyboard, waiting for breakfast).

So, the anti-Abortion crusaders (that word is not chosen casually) ultimately base it all on a religious argument, that Humans possess a quality generously granted to them by The Divine, and Animals (and plants, bacteria, and, yes, viruses) do not.

Personally, to believe that Humans are NOT Animals is hard to swallow, especially since so many Humans exhibit the traits of immature baboons, but that's an unnecessary slam on baboons.

The point here, is that having a certifiably-religious opinion dictate public policy for everyone, here in We-The-People-land, does seem to violate the very first 10 words of the very first Amendment.  

I hold that truth to be self-evident, but woe be to any Legislator who has the integrity (a sadly depleted resource) to bring it up. 

A few years ago, I saw a bumper-sticker: "Against abortion? Don't have one". Why, oh why, can't Believers accept this? Why can't they see how their Self-Righteousness has poisoned the body politic? 

Why can't they hear the (silent) screams of the turkeys?

Jonas Salk spoiled us

People of a certain age - I always felt that that phrase referred to people OLDER than me, alas - certainly remember the hoopla when the Salk Vaccine arrived in the 50s, and our parents made damn sure that everyone would receive it.  As Mr. Dylan reminded us, 'Things Have Changed', but that's not where I'm going.

A few years later, US taxpayers funded a plan to put two representatives of our species on the Moon.  That was pretty cool. 

Lesson Baby Boomers learned:  Science and Technology work magic that the rest of us enjoy.  

Of course, this didn't start with Jonas Salk - I could have begun with Thomas Edison and, most of all, Edwin Drake.

Fast forward to the Age of COVID, now that that malevolent Genie long ago escaped from its fragile-from-the-start bottle.

To their credit, the people of many countries have done/are doing the right thing, and have kept their economic and public-health devastation to a (relatively) minimal impact.  To these people/cultures, I say, bravo.

Clearly, though, the US and Western Europe are ramping up for a grim winter and the human psychology is clear. Rather than adopting the drastic measures to effectively bring the absolutely-interdependent global economic system to a halt for an unknown period (not to mention restaurants, bars, and Fascist get-togethers), we collectively decided to 'screw THAT'.

Humans detest inconvenience and, after all, the Jonas Salks will save us.  So here we are, hunkering down (well, about 60% of us), having collectively made a bet that we and our various tribes will magically stay healthy until the magic vaccine arrives, after which we can resume normal self-indulgence, and it will be, once again, Christmas 2019 (with "It's a Wonderful Life" reminding us that Clarence is Up There).

We pray to today's pantheon, from Astra to Zeneca (including both Johnsons). Can you hurry it up please, so that we don't have to have another ridiculous World Series like this year? We demand OUR Jonas Salk.

The odds are currently reasonable that many of us will eventually get thru this.  We just have to endure another year or so, and accept the deaths, evictions, poverty, and despair of those who lose the bet. Losers and suckers, don't you know.

Which brings me, as all things must, to Climate Change.  Same psychology.  Same magical thinking.  

We've benefited from (Edwin Drake, again) 160 years of being (as Vonnegut lamented) 'drunk on petroleum'. Faith now means that we believe clever technicians will manage to cool things down and avert the Collapse of the Biosphere, without us having to give up too much ourselves.  

They've saved us before, and all we have to do is sit back, make sure we have toilet paper, flour and yeast (or baking soda, which actually works great if you add something acidic, like apple cider vinegar), and be grateful for Amazon Prime and the USPS.

Thanks, again, Jonas.

 

'Owning the Libs' is Job #1. Why?

A friend posted a web piece by a guy who was sincerely trying to understand local acquaintances who were dedicated Trump voters.  This exchange resonated with me: 

"Why do you love Trump so much?", I asked a roofer I know.

“Because you hate him,” he said “nothing personal". 

 

I am trying to comprehend this.

 

My "uncle", Sanford Zalburg (actually my mother's cousin), was a remarkable man, and I've written about him several times.  His father died when he was quite young, and his step-father (who I knew only as a VERY old man) was apparently uninvolved, if not outright cold, to his step-son.  As soon as he was of age, he escaped that unhappy little Upstate New York home, eventually joined the Canadian army, and went off to WWII.  

 

A couple of years later, one morning, he found himself on Omaha Beach.

 

After the war, he ended up in Honolulu, married a local, flamboyant girl, and built an amazing career as a newspaperman, traveling the world and becoming a bit of a local character.  Every few years, he would swing thru Elmira, to visit my mother and uncle.  As a little boy, I remember him as very tall.

Here's a typical obit - there were several:

http://archives.starbulletin.com/2008/02/21/news/story15.html

In my 20's and 30's, I maintained a connection.  We exchanged many letters, and I visited him in Hawaii a few times, soaking up his conversation and his deep knowledge of the world.

Years later, his wife, the amazing Vivian, a lifelong smoker, died horribly from lung cancer.  He was devastated, wrote a book about her, her illness, and her death.  The book was so searingly painful that his editor said something along the lines of "no one will be able to read this."  I think I still have that manuscript (plus another unpublished novel of the Korean War) in a stack of his papers that I, somehow, ended up with.

But here's the story.  As Vivian was in the hospital, suffering and in her final days, she continued to smoke.  When, in frustration, my uncle asked her, "you know what this has done to you, why did you continue to smoke all these years?"

"Because my mother told me not to."

a college story from the Before Time

In the Fall of 1969, I arrived in Baltimore as a freshman at Johns Hopkins. I remember thinking, as my parents began the drive back home to Upstate New York, that that was the day my life was really beginning. 

In so many ways, that turned out to be true, but that's beside the point.

Thinking about the very-different experience that this year's incoming freshmen/freshwomen will be having, I remember this true story from the Old Days. 

A bunch of us in our dorm were required to take the basic History survey, the purpose of which, I understand in retrospect, was to not teach us about 18th Century France, but to make us understand the basic mechanics of academic research, analysis, and argument. 

It was a very large class, in one of the very large lecture halls. A couple of sessions in, the professor (who we understood to be a noted world authority on Cardinal Richelieu), announced to everyone that he'd be available to visit the dorms, if any of us wanted to just chat with him in person. Amazingly enough, someone in our group took him up on that offer, and we set a time and date. 

Sure enough, he spent an evening in our humble dorm room (Clark House, at the end of the 2nd floor hall, if you must know). As I recall, the French Revolution didn't come up much - mostly we talked about Vietnam. I remember thinking how cool it was that this famous, notable guy would take the trouble to engage with this group of very raw, no-nothing, wise-guys. 

This interaction is what this year's students will be missing, and it's sad. That's all I planned to say, however... 

As this memory floated up out of the mists of Time, I googled the prof, Dr. Orest Ranum, and it appears he is still alive, at 87. Not only that, but I was totally unaware, all these years, of what had happened to him at Columbia the prior year. NPR story from 2010 

This makes his sympathies with our Vietnam Dread even more poignant. Our class was his first year at Hopkins, after that nastiness and loss at Columbia. 

Now, you may ask, how is it possible that, after over 50 years, I was able to effortlessly call up his name (spelled correctly). It's because his name is forever associated, in my mind, with a proposed prank call from someone in my group. 

In a joke that I hesitate to repeat, that would take a monumental leap to even begin to approach the level of 'sophomoric', someone suggested calling his wife, to ask if she was 'under Orest'. 

There's a reason there is an entire category of nonsense called 'College humor'. Can it survive COVID? Should it?

my Rabbi Stampher story

I grew up in a little town in Upstate New York, where my traditionally-Conservative Jewish upbringing defined my family life.  I moved to Portland in 1977 and was absolutely unaffiliated with any Jewishness for a few years.

In 1984, I met Karen, who grew up in a home that was definitely culturally Jewish (her mother's first cousin was choreographer Jerome Robbins - think 'Fiddler on the Roof') but they were not especially observant.

When she became pregnant in 1985 and we decided to get married, I knew that my Mother would appreciate a real Jewish wedding, so we set out to find a rabbi who would do what needed to be done.

Our first visit was to the esteemed rabbi of the major Reformed temple, who received us graciously in their imposing stained-glass sanctuary, and described a lovely possible scene, with music, flowers, etc. "Just one thing," he added at the end. "I insist you join this congregation."

It was not unreasonable, I suppose, but when we said we hadn't planned to make a commitment along those lines, he very quickly said basically, "then I cannot do anything for you." and we were dismissed.

Someone (no idea who) suggested we speak with Rabbi Stampher at Neveh Shalom.  He received us in his office, listened to our story, and said "I'm happy to do it".  He officiated for us, at Karen's cousin's house, with our parents, relatives, and Mrs. Stampher present.  He provided the Chupa and a blank Ketubah, I gratefully handed him a 'contribution' and that was that.

Years passed - during most of that time, I had no further contact with Neveh Shalom, as we eventually joined Havurah Shalom (Reconstructionist).  Now, however, I accompany the choir at Neveh Shalom, and our rehearsals each week are held in the 'Stampher chapel'.

He passed away just shy of 98 a couple of days ago, and is being remembered across Portland as one of the leading figures of Jewish life in this town. 

In all the years since our wedding, I spoke to him just one more time.

One day in the late 1990's, I happened to see him at the JCC, for some long-forgotten event.  I went up to him and said, "Rabbi, you certainly don't remember me, but you married me and my wife many years ago.  I just wanted you to know that our son, Ben, is currently studying for his Bar Mitzvah."

He paused, smiled, and gently said to me, "you made my day".
 

Thoughts on 'Yesterday'

Last night, we went to the (relatively) new film 'Yesterday'.  We had seen the trailer some months ago, so I knew the premise, and, in fact, I had (unfortunately) recently read a review that revealed a secret.  Karen had not.

There were some major plot elements that violate the rules of 'what if?' movies, and, if you give them too much thought, negated and conflicted with other plot elements.  Still, it's only a movie, so best not to nit-pick the details too closely.

The script is quite clever in a number of details, which produced in the audience the expected chuckles.  Interesting to have a main character that you both sympathized with (what a dilemma!) and regretted his fundamental dishonesty.

Ed Sheeran, Kate McKinnon, and other supporting players gave very good performances.  Lots of laughs in those scenes.

The expected final scenes, of course, redeemed him and we assumed 'they lived happily ever after', since the film-makers decided, ultimately, that this is a Romantic Comedy, not an absorbing sci-fi puzzle, a la 'Inception'. 


But, for people who were alive 1962-1970, it's all about Those Songs. During the film, they were all performed by the guy, but it was genuinely moving to have the original 'Hey Jude' play, in its entirety, over the closing credits.  We stayed until the very last note.

I can't imagine viewing this film from the perspective of anyone born after 1972. How could they possibly understand what The Beatles meant to Boomers, where we lived, in Real Time, the whole astounding journey from 'Love Me Do' to 'Golden Slumbers'?

And now to deal with The Secret.   Last warning: SPOILER COMING!

Let's be clear - the scene makes no sense, given the basic premise of the film.

When the door to that farmhouse opened, I gasped, and then watched Karen gasp. The impact of that scene stayed with me for hours and, even now, the next morning, I feel it.

I am still filled with quiet gratitude that we have been given the sublime gift of a few minutes with our old friend, John.

It was a reminder that, although we lost something profound all those years ago, sometimes you get a chance to get back to where you once belonged.

Story idea

I had an idea this morning, for a science-fiction short story, which could be developed into a summer blockbuster film.  The trigger was an NPR segment about fish biologists in Washington (State), who are in a fairly desperate battle to prevent the highly-invasive Northern Pike from getting past Grand Coulee Dam, and thus into the entire downstream salmon eco-system, which the Pike would dominate and destroy.

But first, some background.

After my 4+ years with Enron Broadband fizzled into PTSD in 2001 (you may have seen the movie and followed the fraud trials), I experienced yet another in a life-long series of lucky breaks, and found myself under contract with The Nature Conservancy, developing an Invasive Weeds Monitoring database, from a stub that an Idaho biologist had begun.

Over the next few years, as the application grew (eventually attaining some modest success in the Invasives community), I learned a lot about the effects of invasive species, and the various methods that biologists have concocted to, if not control, at least to mediate their shocking effectiveness in destroying existing systems.

Among those tactics are simply physically removing the bad plants, or introducing 'biological controls' (i.e. another species that eats the bad guys).

So, here's my story idea (for which I make no claim to originality).

Imagine a person (could be male or female, but since I'm pitching this, he's a guy).  He's a totally average human, in any 'developed' country.  He is moderately comfortable and successful, according to the norms of the local culture.  He is politically aware and involved, recycles as much as his abilities (and current market conditions) permit, and considers himself reasonably well-informed on science and history.

He has contributed to Jay Inslee's presidential campaign (too topical?), because he agrees that Climate Disruption is the central issue of his time, and that all other current issues (such as day-to-day political nonsense) are trivial compared with the potential for, shall we say, significant disruptions to continuing to enjoy a comfortable and fulfilling life for billions of people.

Then, one morning, he realizes that His species, humans, are Earth's primary Invasive Species, and that a Greater Intelligence is now determined to use whatever it can muster to, shall we say, remediate the threat.  Chaos ensues.

Having difficulty envisioning a Sequel, but the cast will definitely be smaller.

random events that ripple across time

When my wife and her brother were somewhere in adolescence, they stumbled on a document that made them realize that BOTH their father and mother had had prior marriages.  This was a complete surprise to them.

We know a little about my father-in-law's first wife.  She was a holocaust survivor named Maely - they divorced in the mid-1940's, without children.

She subsequently married and divorced former child-actor Freddie Bartholomew, and moved at one point to Harlem, where she became good friends with Billie Holiday.

She ended up married to a writer named William Dufty, with whom she had (and raised) a son. Based on his wife's first-hand knowledge, William Dufty got interested in Billie Holiday and subsequently wrote the book "Lady Sings The Blues".

Implications of all this, if my father-in-law had had a happy first marriage:

* I would not be living in this house, for the past 27 years
* our two cats and the dog would not be sleeping upstairs
* my two boys would not exist
* Diana Ross's film career would have been different

There's probably more.

why I'm not concerned about Global Warming

Today's headline confirms what I've long been thinking, about the condition of my home planet, in the years after (I hope) I am no longer able to report in person.  Here it is:

‘We’ll Have To Develop Those Weapons’:

 Trump Says US Will Pull Out Of Nuke Pact

In a nut-shell (me being the head nut around here), the argument goes like this (no claim to originality made):

• global warming is real (spoiler) and will escalate, as currently predicted
• nobody in 'authority' will ever do anything meaningful about curbing carbon emissions
• increasing weather and food-production disruptions will continue, eventually causing full-scale human migration
• Europe will, unfortunately, bear the largest immediate burden, since people can walk/boat there from most of the newly-uninhabitable places
• Europe's history of meaningful, altruistic cooperation (irony alert) among its various governments and ethnic communities will insure large-scale human conflicts
• The world's scientists will convene, in emergency mode, to announce a massive, global geo-engineering solution.  The proposed approach, on cable news, will be rejected as being bad for business (not to mention, shall we say, risky).  Pundits on all sides of the question will get plenty of work.  Time will pass.
• Someone, somewhere will explode the first nuclear device, and it's July/August 1914 again.

By the time the (nuclear) dust settles down (5-10 years?), the polar ice-caps will begin to rebuild (perhaps never again to Ice Age levels).  The Earth's human population, now in numbers and culture reduced to that depicted in Game of Thrones, muddles thru, their capacity to burn massive amounts of carbon now effectively curtailed for at least a century (perhaps more, but One Never Knows).  There is a newly-energized, small priestly class, who zealously guard the secrets of magnetism and electricity, although they continue to be mystified by VHS tape.

Meanwhile, the tiny colony on Mars will just accept that the WiFi from Earth is temporarily down, and that the normal shipments of ramen noodles and canned tuna will be delayed.  Fortunately, thanks to a recent movie, there are plenty of potatoes (but no ketchup). 

Back on Earth, President-for-Eternity Donald Trump (kept permanently alive in an undisclosed location, or so they say) claims that only he could have ever solved the Global Warming problem, and he urges all Followers to continue hunting Democrats.

The End

PS:  I could be wrong.  Don't forget to vote.

Hell's Kitchen

Two celebrity chefs announce an upcoming dinner party, to be held at a fancy rented hall.

A large number of the invitees remind the chefs that they simply cannot eat anything with cream, cheese or butter.

Two days before the dinner, the chefs announce their custom-crafted menu, and every course has cream, cheese, or butter.  The dairy-free group says, "can't you do a couple of dishes separately?', the chefs say "sorry, no substitutions", and the dairy-free group says, "well, there's no reason for us to attend".

The two celebrity chefs (let's call them Chef Paul and Chef Mitch) announce to their entire Social Network that a minority of their invited guests have ruined their dinner party by being absolutely unwilling to compromise, and they plan to repeat the same scenario in four weeks.


MORAL:  Beware, or the owners of the rented hall will get frustrated and burn it down.

This morning, I had a very dark thought.

If there really is such a nebulous thing as the Earth having a 'Global Consciousness', that consciousness must surely be blinking red.  There are far too many humans, and we are having a far too damaging impact on the Earth's precariously-balanced systems.

When plant or animal populations are stressed due to resource insufficiency, they self-regulate to reduce populations.  Assume it's reasonable that the human Collective Consciousness would have that same inbred inclination.

Supposing that our collective sense is indeed that the current path is one to doom.  What would our unconscious collective will desire?

Fewer people and a cooler planet.

What is the quickest, easiest way to get there?  Nuclear war.

Sure, many tems of millions will die horribly (maybe even someone you know), but the unplanned geo-engineering of nuclear war just might halt the warming enough to save Miami Beach, Lower Manhattan, and Venice (well, maybe not).

It's no accident that disaster movies resonate with us, at a deep level. Maybe the Trump Presidency* is simply the vehicle our Collective Consciousness has created, to prod us to DO SOMETHING ABOUT THOSE ICE-CAPS SOON.   

Furthermore, Trump blundering the world into a 'nuclear exchange' would save a lot of Republican legislators from actually having to vote for carbon-taxes and Green tax-credits.  Then, once it's over, we can allocate more tens of billions of dollars to refresh the nuclear inventory.

Everybody (well, not exactly everybody) wins.

See also:  Randy Newman - "Let's Drop the Big One Now" 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCim7mmLWRA

what are we thinking?

Here in The Present, we experience Life moment by moment, our perceptions always colored by our memories of The Past (unreliable/delusional as they may be).

I'm not talking about your personal Past (undoubtedly the biggest factor in one's personal Present).  I'm talking about the collective Past - what we retained from History class (for those who were awake) and from our own obsessive reading since we left formal schooling (you know who you are).

It's so easy to be smug about catastrophic mistakes made by The Dead (or, as Homer and Nixon called them, the Silent Majority).  We ask ourselves 'what were they thinking?', as we ponder the blunders, whose results are so obvious and inevitable.

Examples are too numerous to mention.

I know there are an infinite number of distractions these days, but, still, it's positively shocking to me that so little is said about the events of exactly 100 years ago, when the Great War raged and millions were slaughtered.  To this day, unexploded shells (many filled with still-deadly gas) surface in the gardens of rural France, along that path of misery that stretched from Switzerland to the sea.

By 1917, the pre-war world was crumbling.  The Russian Empire's autocratic rulers were (unlike today's) clueless.  Same with the Ottomans.  Bleeding men and treasure, the French and British and Germans carried on with the same vain certainty that 'one more push' would lead to a quick victory.  The Americans arrived with their 'step aside and let us take over' bravado.

What were they thinking?

We know how it ended.  It's so obvious that the harsh, vindictive terms of the Treaty of Versailles would lead inevitably to economic hardship in Germany, and we know what panic does to people in times of economic hardship.

What were they thinking? 

We envision Sykes and Picot drawing lines on their map of Mesopotamia, giving birth to 'Iraq' and 'Iran'.  What were they thinking?

I own about a dozen DVDs; my favorite films, which I have watched many times.  There are the obvious ones:  Vertigo, Casablanca, Citizen Kane, Maltese Falcon, Godfather Part II, Dr. Strangelove, Cabaret, The Producers.  You get the idea.

But there are two that I am especially thinking about today, in conjunction with WWI.

First,  Lawrence of Arabia.  Aside from the unparalled cinematography (I think I know just about every shot), what I get from the film is Lawrence's shocking progression from idealistic History nerd to a blood-smeared, violated, broken shell of a man (as the world itself was bloodied and broken when the shooting stopped).

The other is a film you probably don't know:  Richard Attenborough's astonishing film from the late 60's "Oh, What a Lovely War".  I first saw it in Baltimore around 1969 - I believe twice.  A few years ago, I ordered the DVD and have watched it three or four times, including yesterday.

It was originally a stage production, featuring songs sung by the soldiers in World War I.  The songs start out full of confidence and end up full of cynicism, hopelessness and the stark, grim reality they faced in the trenches.

The cinematography and editing are breathtaking, the dream cast includes Lawrence Oliver, John Gielgud, Ralph Richardson, John Mills, Dirk Bogard, Susanna York, Jack Hawkins (unrecognizable as the doddering Austrian emperor), and the shockingly young Maggie Smith, among other assorted Redgraves, etc.  One of the best anti-war films ever made.  If you'd like to BORROW my copy, let me know.

But (returning to my theme), seeing the events of 1914-1918 recapped, one can only ask how could they not have seen the coming calamity?  Why didn't the world rise up and try to prevent it?

What were they thinking?

In this week's news, there's this New York Times headline:  "Trump Lays Plans to Reverse Obama’s Climate Change Legacy". 

Now imagine reading that in 2117.

it might as well be spring

I've been thinking a lot about Elmira, New York, my home town, and mortality, the passing of time, and the passing of generations.  I think what really triggered these thoughts in a big way, here in my mature (sic) years, was my Uncle Sanford's funeral, a couple of years ago.  He was 100 and was buried with military honors, in the cemetery that holds Elmira's Jewish community.

After the burial, I remember walking around, both the Barcus (Reform) and Lavine (Conservative) sections.  The image I cannot get out of my mind is seeing the graves of Norma and George Feinstein, and Alan and Lorraine Nathenson, parents of my best childhood friends.  The obvious realization of 'grown-ups' who were vivid and present figures at one time now permanently residing, silently, in that field, was a bombshell.

I had had an earlier flash of insight many years ago, after my mother's burial.  I walked up and down the rows of Shul people, and I flashed back to a long-forgotten memory, of a Simchas Torah celebration at the old shul, on Orchard Street, before it moved in the mid-50s.  So, I would have been around 5 at the time.

As I strolled past the graves that afternoon, I realized that that crowd, who was there dancing around at that Simchas Torah celebration in 1955, had, over time, all gotten back together.  They were all there.

But back to Sanford's funeral.  As I walked over to my parents' graves, I came upon Sandy Kaplan, who lived across the street from us, and was one of the kids on our block.  I knew she had died from cancer some years before, but seeing her grave put seeing the graves of my parents' friends into an entirely different perspective.

Yesterday afternoon, I took a break from (a little bit of) yard work and sat on our garden bench here in Portland, so far from Elmira.  I noticed birds and squirrels, and passing clouds, and trees beginning to bud and flower once more.  I thought of the peas and potatoes I have planted in the last couple of weeks, and the reliable rhubarb, returning year after year without much effort on my part.

I feel amazingly lucky, to have emerged in a time and place of comfort and security, to have had caring and generous parents, to have found work that I love and, of course, music.  To have had the company of a woman, children, friends, and various dogs and cats.  To have planted trees.  To have memories.  To have seen Angkor Wat at sunrise; to have heard the call to prayer in Marrakesh at sunset.

I have no fear of death.  It does not make me sad that the world will go on without me.  Humans are an experiment that the Earth generated, and that experiment is going bad, but it's always been a mixed bag.

For every Enlightenment there was a Spanish Inquisition.  Somehow, though, we got Mozart and Chuck Berry, Leonardo and Picasso, and especially Laurel and Hardy.

No regrets.

do the right thing

Open Letter to Neil Gorsuch

Neil, I am writing to you about a great opportunity, for which you are uniquely qualified.  I have already drafted a statement for you:

"My fellow Americans.  Because I so deeply honor and respect our Constitution and our Republic's historical precedents, I am today withdrawing my name in consideration for the current open seat on the US Supreme Court.

I cannot in good conscience accept this privilege until such time that Judge Garland has had a fair hearing and vote in the US Senate.  After that matter has been faithfully resolved, I would be sincerely honored to once again be considered for either the current open seat or the (let's face it) inevitable next open seat.

As one of our greatest Americans, Mark Twain, so perfectly put it:  'Do the right thing.  It will gratify some people and astonish the rest.'

God Bless America."

Easy-peasy, Neil.  You have a once-in-a-lifetime choice at this moment.  You can either have your name be, for all time, placed among the greatest of patriots in the entire History of our Republic, or simply listed, in a footnote, with an asterisk.

Do the right thing.

Barry Lavine
Portland, Oregon
USA, USA, USA

Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/marktwain122044.htmlDo the

Do the right thing. It will gratify some people and astonish the rest.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/marktwain122044.html

I'm Beginning to See the Light

All this time, I've been thinking that there were two very separate forces at work in the Age of Trump:

1)  The relatively-recent mission to destroy America by high-level cooperation with Vlad "Bad Boy" Putin to install Trump, Tillerson, Ryan, and (Wilbur) Ross, enabling the extermination of the hated State Department and the US economic engine.  Bonus points for the sheer audacity of putting Perry in the Dept. of Energy and Pruitt at EPA.

2)  The 85-year Republican mission to destroy the New Deal and insure that All The Money not only flows to the Absolutely Wealthy, but, in fact, gushes directly into their pockets.

Now, it appears that we have achieved synergy.  The Republicans, whether they have truly realized it yet, have actually fully embraced the Russian model, where the nation's political machinery is expressly, fearlessly, and OPENLY focused on enriching the powerful (hint, you don't have to be an American to benefit), without any troubling conscience asking 'what about everybody else?'.  Thievery is Good.  Compassion is simulated.

Welcome to the new USA, the western subsidiary of 'Putin, Inc'.  Now that that ship has sailed, let's see if the French, Dutch, and Germans are, unlike us, able to resist.  Dutch election is Wednesday.

The Resistance is strong, and MSNBC still on the air, but this is a country ruled by bullshit and kool-aid, and History (with the exception of Purim's lesson) is not on our side.

Truly, we are witnessing days that will provide material to PhD candidates for centuries to come, assuming the art of writing survives.

why impeachment over Emoluments is a Dead End

There are a lot of hopes being raised about this Constitutional text being our 'Get out of Trump Free' card.

It's not going to happen.

Read the darn thing:
 
"No Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States: And no Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince, or foreign State."

 Did you notice what is stuck between commas there?

"without the Consent of the Congress"

I am not a Constitutional scholar, but does this not mean that Congress can say "we see no problems - it's OK" , and the Impeachment talk is moot?  They have already shown, by their refusal to deal with Merrick Garland, their waiver of the seven-year law for Mattis, and their utter disregard for the blatant conflicts of interest among the Cabinet appointees (and Himself, too) that any rules, laws, or longstanding traditions that get in the way of Trump power shall be dismissed.

We are already sliding down that slippery slope.

The Emoluments clause is not our ace in the hole.  The 25th Amendment is.

Pence is counting the days.

are we in peak 'Depression' yet, or still 'Bargaining'?

Traditionally, it's:

1. Denial – The first reaction is denial. In this stage individuals believe the diagnosis is somehow mistaken, and cling to a false, preferable reality.
2. Anger – When the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue, they become frustrated, especially at proximate individuals. Certain psychological responses of a person undergoing this phase would be: "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; "Who is to blame?"; "Why would this happen?".
3. Bargaining – The third stage involves the hope that the individual can avoid a cause of grief. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. People facing less serious trauma can bargain or seek compromise.
4. Depression – "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die soon, so what's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"
   During the fourth stage, the individual despairs at the recognition of their mortality. In this state, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time mournful and sullen.
5. Acceptance – "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it; I may as well prepare for it."
   In this last stage, individuals embrace mortality or inevitable future, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event. People dying may precede the survivors in this state, which typically comes with a calm, retrospective view for the individual, and a stable condition of emotions.

I have been firmly in 'Depression' since the 'election'. I don't even remember passing thru 'Bargaining', but that's where I am this morning, and thinking about Abraham's tweets with God, prior to the destruction of Sodom.

You may recall that God laid out his plan to destroy Sodom, but Abraham proposes to God that the city should be saved if 50 righteous men (sorry, no women got to vote on this, times being what they were) can be located.

Over the subsequent verses, Abraham, practicing the art of the deal (sic), bargains down until he finally gets God to agree to forestall destruction if 10 can be found. 

Here's the bargain I am looking for: if there is even ONE Elector in each of the States that voted for You-Know-Who, who has the moral courage to simply cast an 'Abstain' vote, that will reduce the tally to under 270 and, at least, apply an Emergency Brake on this runaway train.

We can worry about the House of Representatives (sic) after that.

So, would it be too much to ask citizens of the Trump states, who might have some doubts as to the current trajectory, to please find out where in your state your Electors are meeting on December 19th, and shout loudly enough so they can hear you?  Remember, we only need to reach 1 Elector in each Red state.

Before I go, let me take another look at those Bible verses to find out what happened to Sodom....

Oh, crap.

you're invited to my party

OK, it's come down to this.

Given the increasing evidence of Russian meddling, the long-recognized Russian entanglements among many of the Trump insiders, the astonishing cravenness of the Cabinet appointments (Exxon Mobile CEO as Secretary of State? Can you say 'Oil-igarchy'?), and, ultimately, the preposterous reality of the President-Elect (shudder) himself, I believe it's time for a 'what side are you on' moment.

A certain number of elected Congressfolk are well and truly alarmed at the rot that this 'election' has wrought.  And exposed.

I know that the few vocal Republicans, who understand what these developments mean for the American Republic, will never cross-over to declare themselves Democrats, to counter the 'Freedom Caucus' troglodytes.

Therefore, I proclaim that it's now time for a new coalition to form (yes, it will be predominantly Democrats, excluding Joe Manchin), of statespeople who understand the abyss we are hurtling towards (gas-pedal brought to you by Exxon Mobile and Koch Industries).

I don't even care if you call it the 'Patriot Party' or some such nonsense.  I don't care if you put John McCain and Lindsay Graham as its leaders.  I don't care if they call it the 'New Republicans'.

All that is important is that it has enough members in both Houses (heck, I'd settle ONLY for the Senate), to constitute a movement that the Media will HAVE to explain as 'people of American principles, dedicated to stopping a runaway train'.

By the way, if this results in the disintegration of one or both of the existing Major Parties, I'm willing to live with that.  Yes, I know all about the 'Law of Unintended Consequences'.

To continue on the current course, I believe, is Social Suicide.

Gaia also would say 'thanks - what took you so long?'.

Just a thought...

whole lot of Pokin' going on

For the sake of propriety, let me substitute the more-refined notion of a 'Poke in the Eye' for the common gesture of a raised middle-finger.  Therefore, I trust nobody will be offended as I shorten that to 'Poke You'.

That being said...

We live in a world of 'Poke You'.  At some level, this sentiment has governed human interactions forever, but  I see it everywhere this season.  Here are a few prime examples:

I think it was Michael Moore who summed up the now-legendary blue-collar-rust-belt vote as a giant 'Poke You' to the 'East Coast Elites'.

The joke there, is that Mr. Trump, by making clear he has no intention of jailing Hillary, deporting all Muslims, repealing the entire ACA, (in short, much of the campaign red-meat), has done a fairly significant 'Poke You' to his own electorate. (Many, sadly, are yet to realize this, but I digress.)

Similarly, His cabinet nominations are a giant 'Poke You' to the Progressives, who are aghast at who is tapped to lead Defense, Treasury, Education, HUD, Labor and, especially, the EPA.  Our eyes have been well and thoroughly poked.

Now we hear that Congressional leaders knew about Russian meddling back in September, and that the President wanted this exposed in a show of bipartisan outrage, but Senator "Turtle-boy" McConnell refused to go along, giving Obama a major 'Poke You' (for which, and other services rendered, he was rewarded by his wife getting a  Cabinet position). This actually doubles the essential Pokiness - well-played, sir.

But wait, there's much more.  This morning I hear that, in Michigan, the Trump campaign (October rallying cry: 'the election is rigged!!') got three Republican-appointed judges to vote against two Democrat-appointed judges, to halt the vote recount.  So these judges, whose mission is to essentially protect the integrity and respect for our public institutions, have, by one vote (shades of Bush v. Gore) issued a giant 'Poke You' to the entire country.

So here's my modest proposal.

Since this 'tis the season for massive 'Poke You' gestures, here's an opportunity for one that will make the history books of the future (assuming, of course, that such a phrase has any meaning).  On December 19, wouldn't it be sweet if the Electoral College, on behalf of both the US Constitution AND 350 million US citizens, sends the ultimate 'Poke You' to that smug rat-fucker Vladimir Putin?

Just a thought.