A Better Bubble?

 People in my political bubble are still saying:  “What can we do?  What can we do?”  And they are doing more than most:  protesting, postcarding. calling, writing.  The ideas here came my way from Robert Reich.  They didn’t originate with him, but he thought they were worth passing on.

The Democratic Party has to adopt a new attitude with new tactics.

Form an indépendant, civilian-powered investigative coalition of experts:

Veterans, whistleblowers, watchdogs, 

Hold public hearings. 

Channel DNC funds into all 50 states: rapid-response teams, legal defense coalitions, sanctuary networks, digital security training.

Use your platform to educate the public on rights and resistance tactics.

It’s time to shift from panic to blueprint: Project 2029

Lay out the laws and amendments you’ll pass to make sure this never happens again.

Discuss this now.

Go International!

Join the International Criminal Court

Invite the ICC into US borders.

Leverage international media and watchdogs.

Feed stories to BBC, Al Jazeera, The Guardian, Reuters, Der Spiegel

Make what’s happening in America a global scandal.

(I don't think the current Democratic Party is up for this.  Something new must emerge.  Do you agree?)

Another Chance

 My broken computer, which for weeks stumped the experts,  has experienced a “Lourdes” type miraculous cure.  Chris, who once again stepped up as the “driver to the cure”  (my heart attack) got me to the Apple store where the laying on of hands took place.

So, I’m back.

It’s just as well that my keyboard didn’t work these last few weeks.  No combination of words, even thoughtfully conceived, could have captured how the country has turned on a dime.  

So far, they’re getting away with everything.

Maybe enough of us, hearing about my iMac, will rise from our chairs, throw away our crutches, and usher in a new day. I’ll start typing.

Why We Shake Hands

 The Lakers have been eliminated from the NBA playoffs.  As losers, they still get the headline.  Today, the Timberwolves are an asterisk in the story of:  “Is this the end for LeBron?”

I like the sports where the players line up and shake hands at the end of the game.  Even as we cheer or cry, we acknowledge that every victory requires that both sides take the field. We shake hands to acknowledge the beauty of engagement.  

Victory today…tomorrow yet to come.

Jesus and Justice

 

In the 100th Year Anniversary issue of the New Yorker there is a thoughtful, compelling article by the Texas based journalist and novelist Lawrence Wright. He goes deep into the story of how a group of nuns met and formed a bond with women on Texas death row.  The title Sisterhood gives us a clue about Wright’s broad lens.

Both groups soon realized how similar were their lives of absence and confinement.  The nuns and the prisoners accepted and were willing to learn from one another,  Nice story.  But Wright has more to tell.

The trip to death row is a dark one.  These women are young or have been inside for a long time.  So, the chaos, cruelty and physical damage came fast.  Waiting for them was a twisted

“criminal justice” system.  Lawyers who didn't know what they were doing or didn't care. Botched or fabricated evidence.  Prosecutors who amped up the crime to almost gleefully go for the big one: the death penalty.

Here’s the question that haunts me:  Do we have to live lives of silent contemplation removed from family, work, sex and love to be able to connect with the “other”?  Or does ambition, competition, greed, and “worldliness” keep us in a lonely place?

Time Stands Still

For my baseball class I’m reading an essay by the great Roger Angell. He is sitting next to an old, old timer at a college game.  His companion had pitched for thirteen years in the Majors when the White Sox were black and Ty Cobb was celebrated for his hitting.

As they watch, the veteran reacts to the play on the field and talks about the memories it invokes.  The game is large enough for both.

I’m an old timer now too.  And, I’m watching what’s happening on the field of play.  To our country and our world.  I remember the days I could march, could work for social justice organizations, could cherish Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie.  Imagine.  My life has turned out to be large enough for both.

So many years…and time stands still.  

 

Damn the Torpedos...

Just like they're in the process of explaining the universe, physics figured it out.  And, of course, the Yankees figured it out.  If you change a few places on the bat, it's got a greater chance of getting the ball out of the park.  

OK physics.  I respect you.  But please don't mess with what we love about the game.  Beating out the bunt.  Nailing the runner at the plate with a great throw from center field.  Executing a double play or even a double steal.  And yes, the occasional home run.You get the idea.  The moments you never saw coming when you jump up from your seat in the bleachers or your couch at home. 

Yesterday, the Sox sent Martin Perez to the mound in his first time with the team.  He was pitching six no hit innings when they took him out. Analytics said his time was up.  Wouldn't it have been great if he had gone all the way?

Sequins, Corned Beef and Cabbage

 I went to lunch today where the restaurant featured corned beef and cabbage.  This memory emerged.

When I was between marriages, my mother decided that it was in our best interest to go together on a cruise.  She reached for the gold, selecting the most elegant ship in service: the SS France.  Thus, we spent two weeks among the very rich and sometimes famous.

Formal dinners featured champagne and caviar.  My newly acquired wardrobe included a full length sequin dress.  

Yes.  There was the very slight possibility that I might have fulfilled mother’s dreams by landing the very eligible doctor from Boston.  But, of course, I chose to hang around with two union bosses from the same town.  Probably married.  Probably using union dues.  Skipped the caviar and kept ordering corned beef and cabbage for dinner. They were so much fun.