This Year's Election

Years from now, when the presidential election of 2016 is only an entry in history books, we may wonder how we got here. How we went from a serious discourse about issues, good faith differences, men and women of principles although imperfect, to, well, the cluster#$@# we have now.

I was cringing and silently screaming during the first debate on Monday, through mentions of skirting paying taxes, to hotels and Rosie O'Donnell and beauty pageants and false boasts. It's straight out of an episode of Veep, though even Veep seemed more the serious drama by comparison.

I have been conflicted, and I see the abdication of so many men and women of principle as a great disappointment. Maybe it is a lesser of two evils, or maybe it's #NeverHillary. But with any endorsement, where do you draw the line between policy and character?

So many, many months ago Donald Trump suggested, "I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose voters." He floated a scenario where the GOP runner-up's father was complicit in a presidential assassination. Said runner-up then promptly endorsed him. He's made crude and flamboyant comments about both women and the disabled. He has displayed virtually no humility when bragging about his great wealth, great success, great intellect, etc. He mocks those who he deems vulnerable.

There's the chatter about 300 million people and we ended up with THESE TWO. I could say much about Hillary--she lies, obfuscates, misleads, excuses, explains, condescends, and displays no respect to the ideas that make America great. No individual can do this. The nature of man, of Americans, and the respect we have for the principles embedded in our constitution do that.

So I endorse: neither. I cannot support nor will vote for neither. I cannot place a premium over policy above character, and neither check both boxes. Until 2020, a republic then, if we can keep it.

Greatness

I was walking to my office this morning, another beautiful (though hot) September day here in Washington. It struck me at how great this city is.

I first arrived here nearly twenty years ago for a semester, and I never left. I've been privileged to work here, go to school here, to meet my husband a circle of friends here, and to buy a home here. I've interacted with all circles of life--from neighbors to students to lawyers and judges and other public officials. I've had the freedom to change jobs, and I've carved out my own small niche.

That's not to say everything is perfect. I've had my car broken into. I've had neighbor conflicts. I've had friendship transition and change. I've had times that work has not been professionally fulfilling.

But at no time have I viewed Washington as being an inhibitor. It's always a gateway, an opening.

The campaign rhetoric here has been horrendous. If you filter what you hear through the media, white people are all racists. Women all are discriminated against. People of faith hate gay people. Inequality drives everything we do, and this country has suffered. Some savior needs to emerge to liberate us from our chains that hold us back.

Yet that has hardly been my experience. Yes, this stuff happens. Yes, absolutely, injustice occurs and some people have not been handed the same deck as other peers. Sometimes dumb luck intervenes.

But you can walk out of the door of a Starbucks or a Peet's, you can carry your latte, you can meander toward the office and cut through a park, and life is grand. All people, all backgrounds, all races and creeds, all of us are criss-crossing through town. No one is overtly held back. No one is impeded. No one needs to rescue.  No one needs to make it great.

15 Years

September 11 always moves me. Time stands still, and those voices and memories of yesterday rush back. The crowds in the streets of DC, the sound of the television, the sirens, the movement of cars in every direction but home. The radio with the halting voice, the confusion and the desperation.

But those of who were here in the Northeast remember the weather. We still call it September 11 weather, and today we have it on September 12. Crisp, sun, blue skies, beaming sun. A gentle breeze that hints that Autumn is coming. A nice day. A beautiful day.

I remember that weather going in on the Metro, very resolutely passed Arlington Cemetery, and listening to Live and knowing it was a regular Tuesday and summer was ending but DC just blooms in the Autumn. Spring is unpredictable and full of pollen. September is what we have been waiting for.

So on days like today, I recall that other September 11. The sun beam bright, the sky so blue. The greens so stark with life against a backdrop of an ordinary day.

Music of 40

One of my favorite bands/artists is Will Sheff of Okkervil River. The band (well, Sheff's) latest album is released tomorrow, and it's been pre-ordered for a while. I'm finally seeing them at the 9:30 Club on September 19. The album has been streaming on NPR Music for a week, though the nuance of the lyrics escapes me when I have it playing in the background at the office. I look forward to listening to the lyrics, the intonation of his voice, and the raw emotion as his confessional styled album is released. It reminds me somewhat of another favorite, Blind Pilot, which also is both mourning and moving on from an emotional wrecking year.

My "favorite" albums and artists change, but there are some I return to over and over again. Blind Pilot and Okkervil River are two of those artists. The artists, contemporaries really, are more than just singers with hipster bands but they're are artists that resonate more with me, beyond the shallow music that every top 40 station seems to blast. I will also gravitate toward lyrics--maybe that's why the Josh Ritter concert earlier this year really impressed me--but the album as a complete piece also is vital. Singles not so much.

So another piece of 40. The music and songs that will remain with me more than most.

Just Checking In...

I'm still here. I keep thinking I want to revive this "diary" because I still want to write, and in one form of another (not always continuously) I've maintained a diary for thirty years.

But what do I write?? Reflections on being 40 and childless? Cultivating a family of neighbors and friends? Being conservative in an age of Trump? Feeling a little lethargic in a job I've been in for far too long? Seeing family members aging and moving on, nephews growing older? Traveling to Cartagena and the Caribbean and other locales every year? Music and books that keep me occupied? Worries and concerns that leave me sleepless when life really is not so bad? Ideas for books I may or not may not write?

Or just a pause, a thought, a few ramblings to check in on  a day to day basis?

So I check in today. And then we'll decide later.

Thanksgiving

My eyes have filled with tears many times in the past couple of weeks. The conference, good friends, tragedy and terrible evil in Paris and Mali, frequent travel...I feel like there's an emotional ledge I'm grasping, and I don't want to release it.

But I get to go home, and see J&J, and for that, all for that, I am thrilled. I get to see my nephews and family, and even if the J&Jers are less than thrilled to see their lame old aunt, I get to see them and spend some time hanging out with them. It's the joy of my life, really.

So for a bit, I'll be relaxed and live in the moment. I'll get off this treadmill, and I'll breathe in the cool and crisp air in Michigan. Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

Two Months

I have no real reason to avoid writing. I mean, life has not slowed down, but it's been this way before, and I tune in. I think I'm avoiding writing because I don't know about this stage. It's an uneasiness, a sense that I am not where I desire to be, and I want to avoid having these feelings of drowning.

Whether it is a new nephew or travel or my brother running a marathon or my husband jetting off to Singapore. I feel like I am just standing still, in this place, before another convention, this place that is static and rigid and unyielding. It's a chasm and I'm sinking.

In the stillness, I am aware of my thoughts and how very unhappy I am. I try to cover with drinking, socializing, reading, drama, but it always remains the same.

I want to picture myself in 12 months, with a baby and a Republican president and possibilities for change. But I see myself at 40, sitting here, and still facing uncertainty about a night ahead. And I really hate this. And I don't know how to pull myself up.

Two Months...

I haven't written much lately, I know....summer escaped me, with trips to Texas, the Bahamas, Detroit, and Iceland. Much to say about all of that.

But a word on September 11, and fourteen years ago. It's a perfectly summery day here, once again, like that day, with clear blue skies, low humidity, and highs in the 80s. Unforgettable weather, September 11 weather. God bless America.

Tragedy on Metro

Last Saturday, on the Fourth of July, a 24 year old killed was knifed to death on a red line train headed to Noma, five blocks from where we lived. And a place we passed by, enroute to Harris Teeter, moments before the crime.

There were a handful of others on the train, who witnessed the attack, which seemingly occurred in about a three minute time span. Some contend they should have stopped this crazed 18 year old, brandishing a knife and high on some synthetic drug. Uncontrollable and menacing, and likely bigger.

I think those on the train were judged harshly. There was a woman in her 50s, with her father in his 70s, and I cannot believe either could have stopped this kid and likely would have been hurt had they forcibly tried to intervene.

I am not there to judge. I would have been scared senseless. I wold have hoped I could have called 911 or tried to stop this kid who repeatedly, brutally, relentlessly stabbed this kid to death, who probably was the youngest and most vital person on the train.

I think anyone could have related to this, and anyone is saddened by this. I still am thinking about it, five days later. And you wonder: what would you have done? And if it was you, attacked like this, would you have surrendered? Could your life have been saved? 

Who Will Stop the Rain?

I don't remember why it rained so much in 06, but I won't forget the non-stop deluge of June 2015. From freaky late night thunderstorms, to sudden inches, to three inches of rain on Saturdays....Insanity. Check out this post.

Yes, I'm a weather groupie. I just hate how it stresses me out. Ugh.