?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

First Impressions

It’s the first day of the Democratic National Convention, and pandemonium reigns.  It was supposed to be a contrast to last week’s Republican National Convention where pandemonium was invited as a front row participant.

But with the WikiLeaks regarding the DNC’s opinion of Bernie Sanders and Sanders’ followers themselves both being unruly, it leaves one to wonder: Is there a rational approach to anything anymore?

Then it’s noted on national television that the WikiLeaks were engineered by Russia, who wants Trump to win the Presidency.  I don’t have enough information yet to determine if this is true or not, but either way it doesn’t bode well.

Early in July, I decided I would watch both the RNC and the DNC conventions and view firsthand what their followers said. But even on the first night of the RNC convention I was turned off. During the entire convention, I believe I watched a cumulative sixty minutes.

It’s the case with the DNC as well. My first impression is to turn off the television and finish my Richard Russo book. I won’t have to watch the DNC long to match sixty minutes.

P.S. My husband noted that there are five months until Christmas.

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Halfway There

The RNC convention is history, and the DNC convention starts Monday. So we’re halfway home with this political ritual. I wanted to watch more of the Republican convention than I did, but mostly I couldn’t stand it. In all fairness, however, I plan to watch the same amount of the Democratic convention, and I’ll probably have issues there too.

If I were to give advice to the presumed Democratic nominee, I’d say, “Step out of the ring.” I don’t mean the presidential ring; I mean the mean-spirited ring of this year’s campaign politics.

We know Mr. Trump believes all publicity is good publicity. Accepting that, why would the other candidate spend time denigrating him? Or answering accusations? Accusations that have been around for ages?

Instead, why wouldn’t we ask that candidate to take a different tack – I’m not saying higher road here on purpose – in terms of the rest of the campaign?

What if she ignored her opponent and set about instead to provide a view of what she wants to accomplish and a plan to do it?  This would be markedly different from what the GOP candidate has provided. He’s offered goals but not plans to achieve them.

The current riff is that Hillary Clinton is not trustworthy. I could be persuaded to agree. But sparring with her opponent over this is non-productive.  Instead, I’d love to hear her vision. Then I’d take it with a large grain of salt.

But at least I’d know more than I do now.

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RNC

Today is the official start of the Republican National Committee’s quadrennial convention, the one where the next GOP nominee for President of the United States is confirmed. I’ve watched a couple previews over the past weekend that focused on the convention site, its security in the face of an “open carry” state — Steel tipped umbrellas are banned but guns are not. — and the possibility of all kinds of never-seen-before antics.

Some have compared this summer’s conventions – both GOP and DEM – to 1968. If you’re of a certain age, you’ll know what I mean.

That was the year we saw the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy.  It was the year President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act and Vietnam War protesters ramped up their activities. Richard Nixon was the Republican nominee and Hubert Humphrey was the Democratic choice. Riots were the order of the day. It screamed coming-of-age with unrest at every turn. Blacks and women and gays and pacifists were all marching for attention and change.

This year is a reminder of how far we’ve come since 1968 and how little we’ve changed in the process. Blacks and women and gays and pacifists are still marching. And the nominees who will become official candidates for the highest office in the country are uninspiring, to say the least.

Come to think of it, it IS déjà vu all over again.

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Carla Hayden

Carla Hayden, newly appointed Librarian of Congress, is my kind of person. She has a long career in library science with a doctorate from the University of Chicago. She has been a children’s librarian (dear to my heart), was honored as the national Librarian of the Year, and was also head of the American Library Association during the years when libraries came under attack by the US Justice Department and the FBI. She is very familiar with the front lines.

Which is possibly why her recent nomination to the post of Librarian of Congress languished in the Senate until recently.  I won’t get into the politics behind the delay in approving her appointment – You can read about it on the Internet – but it saddens me that even libraries and librarians are subject to the polarization that occurs regularly on Capital Hill. Nominated by President Obama as the first female to hold the office, she was eventually confirmed with a vote of 74 to 18.

The Library of Congress itself has a lot of problems.  With a $620 million budget and over three thousand employees, it “provides research and legal advice to Congress and operates the Copyright Office,” according to The Washington Post. A recent investigation found widespread mismanagement.  If this is the case, Hayden is the person for the job.

I am about to send a copy of my current children’s picture book, Philip & Phoebe, to the Library of Congress. Most likely, Ms. Hayden won’t open the package herself; still I’m glad she’s there.

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Changing Leaders

While America’s front runners for the office of President continue to bash each other for another four months, England accepted a new Prime Minister today after David Cameron announced his resignation a couple weeks ago.

I don’t know the ins and outs of the British system, but it seems a lot more logical in terms of filling the highest public office in the land.  In our country, candidates began their campaigns at the beginning of 2014.  By the time it’s over, we’ll have been at this almost two years.  And Congress’s work has ground to a halt in the meantime.

Perhaps there were disgruntled people in England two years ago, but they and the government seemed to be going about their various businesses. I don’t think Cameron even considered stepping down back then; and surely the new Prime Minister, Theresa May, wasn’t actively lobbying and campaigning for the job.

But then Brexit occurred, and Great Britain chose to leave the European Union. It wasn’t a landslide vote, but it was enough for Cameron – who’d rallied the people to stay in the EU – to admit defeat and resign. It was all very British.

And, despite a nasty campaign over Brexit, it was still so much more civilized than the Donald and Hillary Show.

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Loving Nothing to Do

It’s almost 10 PM, and I just finished resting a few minutes on the patio watching the final gasp of the sun.  Here in southwestern Michigan it gasps late.  And I reminisced about the day.

I didn’t leave the house once, except to find errant weeds and water those plants that don’t have the luxury of being near a spigot on our sprinkler system. I worked on my literary project, played piano (Chattanooga Choo Choo is the arrangement of choice.), and answered emails.  An altogether wonderful Sunday.

It reminded me of what I like best, and that is a no obligation day: one with no commitments whether they are health-related (as in working with a trainer) or exercise-related (as in mall walking with friends or taking activity classes at the local “Y”) or mentally stimulating (as in a book club meeting).

I have no objections to these activities, but when I find a day that is a tabula rasa, a clean slate, I revel in it. So I enjoyed today immensely.

Which also means I’m ready to pick up tomorrow’s yoke of activities and responsibilities with renewed energy.

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Staring at Me

There is a shelf in my office above the external monitors where I keep mementos, and I was studying them today.  The small statue of Brahms was a gift from my piano teacher when I finally mastered the dotted quarter note followed by an eighth note that makes “Brahms’ Lullaby” notable.  Next to it is a similar statue of Beethoven.

The first time I tackled his “Moonlight Sonata,” it took a year to bring it to the level that I was capable of then.  Several years later, I resurrected the piece to see what skill I’d gained in the interim.  And just this Spring, I worked on it for the third time.  That’s when I realized that, while I like the statue, I really never liked “Moonlight Sonata.”  In an unguarded moment, I told my piano teacher who shook her head.  Her philosophy is that there is so much music to play that it’s not a good idea to work on something the student doesn’t like. We immediately discarded the sonata for “Fur Elise” by the same composer.

In addition, I have a statue of Kevin, one of those yellow minions of movie fame.  He is filled with yellow Tic Tacs®, but as far as I know has never offered any to Brahms or Beethoven. Then there’s the coffee mug with the names of banned books printed all around it that doubles as a pencil holder and reminds me of the Freedom of Information Act for some reason.

There’s a small fork I use as a backscratcher, a tin of paperclips, and a snow globe with New York City in miniature captured inside. Several books and a French-English dictionary complete the grouping.

I often look at these treasures for inspiration, and so far they have never let me down.

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Coupon Craziness

The nozzle on the end of my hose, the one with several different settings to allow for a jet stream or a mist with various options in-between, broke. It didn’t owe me anything, since I’d probably spent less than five dollars on it. Still it needed replacing . . .

“I’ve got a coupon for five dollars off at Tru-Value,” my husband, ever the bargain-hunter, said. “You can have it.”

So armed with the coupon I headed to the hardware store, only to have Earl yell a caveat as I pulled out of our garage.  “You have to spend twenty-five dollars to get the five dollars off.” I should have known then and there this wouldn’t turn out well. But I also wanted a new hoe and the store in question had greeting cards, so I accepted his shout-out and assumed all would be fine.

I found the nozzle I wanted: a ten-dollar item on sale for five dollars. Then I found a suitable hoe and headed for the cash register, having calculated that I’d spent the requisite dollar amount for the coupon. I didn’t even check the greeting cards.

BUT, it turns out the fine print on the coupon doesn’t recognize sale items. That would be my nozzle.  So I was five dollars short for using the coupon.

Did I do what I should have done, which was just purchase the nozzle at face value and forget the whole coupon thing? Of course not. Because, as I learned in a seminar once, what should have happened NEVER happens. Instead, I left the check-out line, found the greeting card section, and purchased just enough to redeem the coupon.

In the end, my on-sale nozzle cost me thirty-two dollars. Go figure!

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Recipe Bin

The recipe bin moved with us almost seven years ago and took up residence in a cupboard just like it had in our previous home. It was ignored except when Earl and I found a recipe in the newspaper or a magazine or from a friend that we wanted to keep. Sometimes I’d print something from a food site online and throw the copy in the bin too.

This morning, I decided to search it for a recipe Tina gave us half a dozen years ago for Southwestern Relish.  But when I tried to hoist the bin from its shelf I realized its contents had reached critical mass.  Even though my trainer has me working on my biceps, I could hardly lift it down onto the counter.

When I did, a mass of papers – all sizes, some definitely aged – greeted me.  Somewhere in there was the recipe I needed. But there were definitely many more recipes I’d never even made. In fact, most I didn’t even remember tossing in the bin in the first place.

As I sifted through for the missing relish, I came upon 7-Up biscuits (Never attempted), crash hot potatoes (Not tried), bagel quiche (Nope!), and crock pot beef tips (No.). I won’t list every recipe; suffice to say most were long on carbs and short on veggies. In addition, I found eight copies of Earl’s signature dish, Funeral Potatoes (which are guaranteed to make a cardiac surgeon cringe).

Near the bottom I found the Southwestern Relish recipe, but instead of returning the bin – now only one sheet of paper lighter – to its home, I decided to organize it and discard recipes that no longer have appeal. When that’s done, I’m confident my biceps can handle lifting the bin back into place.

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Bookmark

I have a friend who is a voracious reader.  She’s a member of one of my book clubs and always comes prepared.  In fact, the time we agreed to read something written by John Updike is a case in point.

I chose a short story.  She read the entire Rabbit trilogy. And we did it in the same amount of time.  What does that tell you?

This friend, and others, know I always read the last page of a book first. The question marks on their faces register their incredulity; and even when I explain my reasons, I’m not sure they’re convinced.

No matter. My Rabbit-reading friend cut me slack this morning when she gave me a charming bookmark. Designed in a cross-stitch pattern, it read “Read the ending first, life is uncertain.” I immediately replaced the bookmark I was using in my Richard Russo novel with this gift.

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