A First

 This morning, the friendly Jewel employee who oversees the self-checkout machines, was running from one to another.  "It seems like they're all having problems at once," he said. "They drive me crazy."  "I'd rather have people," I replied, "but that's an old fashioned idea."

He took a moment to tell me this story:  In Korea, the grocery stores have been using robots to check people out.  On a particularly busy day, one of the robots threw itself down the stairs.  "I think it's the first case of robot suicide," he said.

The "C" Word

 I remember when cancer was the "C" word.  Spoken in hushed tones.  It was a death sentence, or, if you were John Wayne, you were a hero for surviving, if only for awhile. The only posture was a stoic one, so why dwell on it.

Climate change is now the "C" word.  It's too disruptive to admit it into our lives.  Too much to have to recalculate.  Too much money lost right now.  Better to bully those who insist on bringing it up.  

There were terrible storms and fires during the last weeks of the election.  If the cause came up at all, I missed it.  And I was paying pretty close attention.

My friend June, who lives in Asheville, was without electricity or water for a week.  Marilyn's house in St. Petersburg just missed a falling tree.

Here's the one thing upon which both candidates agreed:  Let's not mention the "C" word.

There's a book on my shelf called:  "The World Without Us."  Yes, something will remain.

Your Choice

 Yogi Hugs Don Larson

As the self-appointed "philosopher" of my baseball class, I'm always delighted when the conversation delves into "the big picture." 

Today, it was this question:  Would you rather be the Hall of Fame player on a team that never reaches the post season and World Series?  Or, would you prefer to be the less recognized player who comes up with an unforgettable moment of greatness that touches fans everywhere?

P.S.  Philosophers aren't looking for right or wrong answers.

Remembering the Two Lilys

 

The death of Lily Ledbetter, the champion of equal pay for women,  reminded me of a favorite  moment I wrote about in my book.  Here it is.

There’s a charming article in the New Yorker about how a group of women lawyers went back to McSorley’s restaurant/bar in New York to celebrate the signing of the Lily Ledbetter Law and reminisce about how they had sued McSorley’s in 1969 for barring women. It was a bloody battle.

In the 1970’s I worked for the Chicago Council of Lawyers. The women in the Women’s Rights Committee decided to challenge Chicago’s B-girl law. The law barred unescorted women from sitting at the bar in nightclubs and restaurants.

I decided to join the women when they launched their challenge. They chose the nightclub Mr. Kelly’s. This club was a hot spot on Rush Street which attracted the most popular comedians and singers. On the night we went, a little known comedienne named Lily Tomlin was opening for Shelley Berman. The women sent her a note telling her about the B-girl law and advising her that they were going to infiltrate the bar. Lily, who had no clout at that point, still had the guts to tell the management that she wouldn’t go on unless the women were seated. Mr. Kelly’s caved and the law was eventually overturned.

I wish I could go back to Mr. Kelly’s, but it is long gone. Lily Tomlin became a star.

When Losing Isn't So

 

As you know I love my Literature of Baseball Class.  This time the book is: "Why We Love Baseball."  It's a countdown of 50 memorial moments in the game.

I've found that incidents in baseball (and other sports) give us a clear look at the complexities of life.

Harvey Haddix pitched 12 perfect innings during which his team failed to score a run.  They ended up losing.  Haddix, throughout his life, downplayed the achievement concentrating on the loss.

I believe that his perfect effort far outshines the outcome.  The human story is that we can give it our best knowing that we always live among others.

Visitors

 Ralph Nader's niece was killed in a plane crash.  Her grieving mother was on her way to a concert in her daughter's memory when she was visited by a giant, beautiful moth.  It rested on her shoulder for awhile.  The mother was comforted, feeling her daughter's presence.

This reminds me of an experience in my life.  I'm including it here.

I was reading an article about grief. It mentioned that people who are grieving frequently imagine that their loved one is still around, perhaps as a bird, dog or cat. This reminded me of an episode from a few years back. After a few dates, a man I knew invited me to visit him at his house near the beach in Wilmington, North Carolina. He seemed like an okay fellow, and I loved North Carolina as a child, so I said: “yes.” 

As soon as I walked into his house, I was afraid it was going to be a long weekend. There were old newspapers everywhere, coffee grounds on the kitchen table, dishes in the sink. His wife had died a few months before so I was ready to cut him some slack, but it was difficult. I quickly retreated to the space his daughter had prepared for me. It was a refuge from the clutter. 

It wasn’t too long before I noticed a beautiful red bird. It was sitting on the sill every time I looked out of the window. I imagined that the wife’s soul was lingering so I started talking to the wife/bird. I found out a lot about this man who was brutally left behind by her sudden death. Enough to relax more than I thought I would. 

We had a good time that weekend. I didn’t tell him about the bird, but he owed that creature a lot . 

And so did I. 

This is from my book: Joan Chandler Today

The Gang That Can't Lose Right

 

There's been an uptick in attendance at the Sox games these past two nights.  The logical explanation is that fans are showing up to be able to say they were in the stands when the Sox proved themselves to be the all-time worst team in baseball.

The team has stayed true to its frustrating ways.  They have won the last two games, at the last minute even, thus (so far) denying  breaking the record at home.  Today is their last chance to award the ignoble prize right here on the South Side.

I'm inclined to hope they lose so we can boo them on their way.  On the other hand, I don't hate the players who just don't belong in the major leagues.  I reserve that for the owner, who probably won't be anywhere near the ballpark today.