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Election Connection – Republicans will Never Change their Spots

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I don’t even know where to begin with this bullshit.

The weakest Speaker of the House in US history has been ousted and the Speaker’s position is vacant for the first time in the House of Representative’s 243 years of existence.

Good riddance.

Kevin McCarthy is nothing more than a sycophantic, lying, piece of garbage scraped off the bottom of my shoe. Partisan hack and chaos agent doesn’t begin to cover the contempt I have for this phony.

I haven’t even gotten into his smarmy, self-satisfied, failing up brand, and contemptuous face.

But you may say, tell me how you really feel.

And judging by his recent tantrum, Interim Speaker, Patrick McHenry isn’t much better.

Let me actually begin by answering the media’s pressing question: Why are Democrats to blame for this debacle?

Well…they’re not.

At all.

The Democrats have a speaker. The Minority Leader. His name is Hakeem Jeffries. They voted for him at the same time Republicans voted for Kevin McCarthy. For the Democrats, nothing has changed. They support their speaker 100%.

It is not their job to bail out his weak ass.

It is not their job to create a safe space for the Republicans to continue their attack on the American people by their reverse Robin Hood of taking from the least of us and giving to the wealthiest. This isn’t politics as usual.

Except that for the Republicans, it is.

I am currently reading Wounded Knee: Party Politics and the Road to an American Massacre by historian, Heather Cox Richardson. It is more than the journey taken by the United States government that led directly to the Wounded Knee massacre, but it is the politics of the day that led to.

The greed.

The corruption.

Basically, the Republican way of life.

I don’t say this lightly.

Prior to this book, I finished reading Hear That Lonesome Whistle Blow: The Epic Story of the Transcontinental Railroads by Dee Brown about the building of the transcontinental railroad from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and it is full of the double-dealing, cheating, corrupt railroad tycoons who did everything in their power to steal the land from the Native Americans while committing genocide along the way. (As an aside, Dee Brown also wrote the seminal work, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West – I highly recommend it.)

The railroad tycoons did not manage to do this alone. They had help, a lot of help from the US government and the military, all Republican run.

But I diverge from the focus of this writing which for our purposes only touches on the railroads and the Native Americans tangentially to the Republicans’ lying and cheating to win any election.

As I read Cox Richardson’s detailed descriptions of how things went down in the 1890s and beyond, the Republican representatives did everything in their power during the Harrison Administration to retain control of the Congress and the Presidency. They bought off election workers. They kept the Black vote suppressed. They refused to consider Native American citizenship because for some reason, having been born here wasn’t enough to be a voting citizen. Not to mention they weren’t land-owning, a prerequisite for the ability to vote.

They CREATED four new states, and only Montana surprised them by electing a Democratic governor, but other than that, they, as well as Wyoming, North and South Dakota were Republican in every other way. These four NEW REPUBLICAN states received at least four Congressmen and EIGHT senators. This heavily weighted the Electoral College to almost guarantee a Republican victory in 1892.

Which was exactly the point.

Our biggest mistake as a country is letting land vote.

And this was the least duplicitous thing they did to gain votes and money for their personal coffers.

They continually suggested that the land on the Great Plains was great for farming. It wasn’t. And it still isn’t without irrigation which hadn’t been discovered yet as a viable alternative to natural rain. They falsified weather reports, giving the opposite information than the Farmer’s Almanac predicted.

Reading this history, I was becoming incensed. I needed to stop often after I read a paragraph and then highlighted some other Republican misdeed. I was having flash-forwards to modern times and seeing this exact scenario playing out today.

Just look at the last few days of the Speaker vote. One Republican motioned for the speaker to vacate. Eight Republicans voted against Kevin McCarthy. REPUBLICANS. When the interim speaker took over, a small man who thinks smaller, slammed his temporary gavel so hard, he missed the block he’s supposed to hit. His first act as Interim Speaker wasn’t to speak to Democrats, to try to unite the parties or even to unite his own split, petty party, he used that first act to evict Speaker Emerita Pelosi and former Majority Leader Steny Hoyer out of their Capitol offices. Speaker Pelosi wasn’t even in Washington, D.C. She was attending her friend Dianne Feinstein’s funeral in California. Fortunately, her staff had help from Leader Jeffries’ staff to move her office. That’s all you need to know about the parties.

You may not agree with Democratic party policies, but most of the country does. And regardless of even that, when the Democrats are in power, they spend their time trying to make things better for ALL Americans. They’re not out there sabotaging each other and the rest of the country. They’re not holding the debt ceiling and the paychecks of the military hostage. They are working for the people. Always.

What have the Republicans gotten done for the American people?

Nothing.

They’re too busy whining, creating havoc, name-calling, lying, suppressing the vote and everything possible to stay in power.

But when they’re in power, what do they do?

Nothing.

Look back on the last few Republican Administrations. They screw us up so badly and put us deeper into debt, we elect a Democrat who fixes the mess, and then we get collective amnesia.

Remember this on Election Day.

Remember this on every Election Day.

Remember.

Mental Health Monday – Onward

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Today is the first Monday in October, and that means that Suicide Prevention Awareness month has come to its conclusion. Now that you won’t be inundated with reminders every few tweets or threads to check on your friends, to drink your water, to breathe, it may seem as though you’ve been abandoned at the seashore with friends and neighbors waving you off.

This is not what it is, though.

Without the constant social media buzz, it is still important to remain aware of your mental health. Continue seeing your mental health professionals. Notice if the things you like to do become less fun or you dread starting projects. If you journal, continue writing. If you doodle, continue drawing. If you pray and/or meditate, keep up that practice.

Randomly mark a day on your calendar to see how you’re doing; is your coping toolbox ready for your needs?

Take a mental health inventory on yourself once a week or more if it helps you feel centered.

Check yourself, and check your friends.

The awareness month may have ended, but the awareness doesn’t.

You are not alone.

We are all in this together.

Mental Health Monday – Quietude

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Today is the observance of Yom Kippur. It is the Jewish day of atonement, a time to think back on the bad we’ve done and ask forgiveness, and to look forward on how we can be better stewards of ourselves and our time.

When I was a child, we were not allowed into the temple. I don’t know if that was because the tickets were too costly or if we children made too much noise and fidgeted too much. I have strong and fond memories of playing in the parking lot (which was devoid of cars) and playing with other children. We were dressed relatively nicely, but still playing outside until one of our parents came out to the door at the back, and from the top of the stairs shushed us. If I were being honest, this happened more than the one time.

Growing up, I had difficulty on this day. As a teenager, I would sleep until one in the afternoon, hoping to shorten the fasting we were required to do. I was annoyed that I couldn’t participate in my favorite pastime – writing – because writing was work. (Not to me, but my parents would not hear of it.) We didn’t have computers then, so that wasn’t an issue for me.

As I grew up, I never had a temple near me to attend services (except once) and so I spent my Yom Kippur fasting, reading one or two books, and speaking to G-d.

After I had my kids, I would take them on walks, read to them, and watch PBS.

On these Yom Kippurs that fall during my Catholic years I find myself seeking quiet. Reading. Praying. Fasting. (I try to only take my medicine with a little bit of water.) Thinking back on the last year and looking forward.

For those of you who are not Jewish, who do not observe the fast, this is a reminder that we all need that quietude; that time to take for ourselves where we’re not making shopping or to-do lists, where our brains are not turning over a mile a minute. Take the day if you are able, or an hour, or even a block of fifteen to twenty minutes, and just be. It can be contemplation, meditation, prayer, or just simply resting your mind. That time is your refuge, and it is needed just as much as water is for life.

(c)2023

Mental Health Monday – Time

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I’ve mentioned before my writing planner – the calendar where I schedule topics to write about. Some just happen, and others reflect items on the calendar. For instance, I’m working on something for All Saints Day as well as my two writing classes (with prompts), although I’m not sure that those will be going off this year. We’ll know soon enough.

Friday was the birthday of children’s writer and illustrator, Tomie dePaola and I had planned a reflection on his work as well as a personal connection.

Friday was also the first night of Rosh Hashanah.

As I was getting ready for Rosh Hashanah, Tomie dePaola was still on my radar. After each mundane task, I would think to myself (or even say aloud) that I needed to write and post the Tomie dePaola piece. I shouldn’t say “need;” I wanted to.

I took my son to work, I got groceries, I picked my daughter up from school, I started dinner, I picked my son up from work, I continued with dinner: roast chicken with sweet potatoes if anyone was wondering.

And as it drifted towards sundown, I knew that I was going to miss Tomie dePaola’s birthday.

I just couldn’t make the time stop. Dinner was nearly ready, my oldest was coming over for dinner, and I still had to clean off the table and vase the flowers.

I could have gotten frustrated.

I could have gotten angry (at a whole host of things).

I could have assigned more tasks to my family, who had also worked all day, stepped aside, and wrote what I wanted to, shared the photos that I wanted to, and it would have been done.

However, it wouldn’t have been done right.

It wouldn’t have been done with the reverence that Mr. dePaola deserves.

I let the time pass, and I decided to be okay with that.

I spent the holiday with my family, reading, sitting prayerfully with G-d, and knew that tomorrow is another day, and I can celebrate Tomie dePaola tomorrow.

Which is my plan.

Stay tuned.

Mental Health Monday – September 11th

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Today is one of those days that needs some extra quiet.

I drove my son to work, and then sat in the car for over 30 minutes, discussing what I wanted to eat for breakfast with myself. Having not really decided, I just sat there. I knew what day it was, but it hadn’t imprinted on my mind yet. When it did, I at least understood my unexplainable melancholy.

In the interim between 2001 and today, I have met and befriended a few people who were there, in lower Manhattan when the World Trade Center fell, who were in one of the buildings when it was hit. We’ve heard stories of friends with near misses, where fate – or providence – kept them from being there that day, and others who found their way home, ghost-like.

I have pangs of guilt, feeling the strong feelings of Nine-Eleven when I wasn’t physically there, but in the ensuing years, I have come to accept and be at one with my own trauma. No, I wasn’t in attendance, but I had been affected more than a previous tourist, visiting once or twice. This was my home. Both of my parents were from the Bronx. I was born in the Bronx and grew up in Queens and on Long Island. At the time of the attacks, we had just returned from visiting my parents and my mother-in-law the day before, crossing the Throgs Neck Bridge, pointing out the New York City skyline to our four-year-old son. We viewed that sight not twenty-four hours before, the same perfect blue sky guiding our way north.

I resent out of state politicians using 9/11 as their fundraising, their inspo-porn, trauma-porn, and call to arms that they have no right to.

For more than a year after, when I traveled on our local highway to the state capital, I would shudder at the sight of a plane flying overhead, sinking lower and lower in the sky as it descended to the airport runway that I was passing. Our house is in the flight path of two small, local airports, and every time a plane flew low, I would have a visceral reaction. I felt that these reactions and feelings were not mine to have – I wasn’t there!

But in a way, I was.

This was my home. These were my people.

And I’ve decided to own my pain and my trauma of that day.

That’s my mental health Monday suggestion this week: don’t let others tell you how to feel. Only you know how you feel, and you should let yourself feel the things. It’s possible that the feelings can be too much, but if that’s the case, seek out a professional. Talking to someone who is a professional can do wonders for your mental health, not only today, but any day.

Have a peaceful, blessed, quiet, tea-filled day.

❤

Friday Food. Samosa.

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We were staying in a small town outside of Belfast, in Northern Ireland. This was in 2017. It was our last night, and our cousins, who were hosting us had to tend to an emergency in Donegal, and so we were left to our own devices after their taking care of us so diligently, including feeding our brood of five. My husband had been adhering to a policy (and continues to do so) that he termed TSN – try something new – and with this in mind, we discovered a restaurant in town with Istanbul in the name, and chose a sampler of different fried foods that arrived in a pizza box. It was similar to a combo appetizer you would order at a restaurant.

This was my first time having a samosa. It is triangular, but not flat; three-dimensional, but not a pyramid. It is filled with, I didn’t know what then, but it was delicious. I have come to learn that they are usually filled with potatoes, peas, and spices.

My next taste of a samosa was at an interfaith Iftar I was invited to. Again, very delicious.

I’ve had various types of samosa, including a Thai version, which is yummy, although it has a softer outside.

While we were recently on vacation in Canada, we discovered and rediscovered a whole world of Indian, and southeast Asian foods, including butter chicken, naan, momo, as well as samosas. What I hadn’t expected was to see a sign in a mall food court (Pita Lite) in St. Catherine’s that offered samosas for $1.75 each. It came with a spicy tamarind sauce. (I did try it, but it was too spicy for me.)

I was so excited that I dug deep into my change purse for the exact amount, and sat at a table, waiting both for my family and to let this piping hot snack cool a bit. It didn’t matter – I still burned my tongue a little. And to be honest, it was well worth it.

When we returned to the States, and visited our local mall, I was not surprised but still disappointed to see that a simple samosa snack had not come here while we were away enjoying it. Perhaps, one day, but I can still savor the memory.

(c)2023

Inspire. September.

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Sometimes an inspiration takes on many forms and has many hands to form it.

The pictures below are a couple of my visit (pilgrimage, I suppose it could be called) to the Canadian National Shrine of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. I had been trying to visit here for several years. I was hampered from visiting due to their pandemic closure, and then I thought I wouldn’t be able to again this year because their opening hours did not coincide with our vacation plans.

My husband rectified that by suggesting our return a couple of weeks after our vacation to visit the shrine. And so, I was able to fulfill my desire to see the final resting place of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. This was my final stop in seeking out Kateri’s footsteps, and it was a beautiful experience that I will share in time.

In the meantime, enjoy these photos that do not do the site justice:

St. Francis Xavier Mission Church.
Kahnawake, Quebec, Canada.
(c)2023
The Altar.
(c)2023
Looking from the altar to the entrance of the church.
(c)2023
Tomb of St. Kateri Tekakwitha that holds her relics.
(c)2023

Mental Health Monday – One Thing

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I’m not sure about you, but this week, or partial week, set between the end of vacation and the beginning of school is always a tough one for me. This year is especially bittersweet as it is my daughter’s senior year of high school; the little one; the baby. Our vacation days were all messed up this year, coming earlier in the month than usual due to a commitment I made, the college school schedule, and the closing days of a shrine that I wanted to visit (see tomorrow’s Inspire post for more on this).

As I mentioned on Friday, September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. It can be a burden to our mental health to constantly be reminded that we are not alone, we are enough, if in crisis, call 988. For some, it truly is a reminder of our worth and a valuable resource. For others, on the lower spectrum of suicidal thoughts, it can come across as trite, another checklist to get through to be called an ally.

You never know who you’re reaching, and so we keep reaching out. I hope the readers will take it with the compassion and empathy in which it is offered.

For today’s Mental Health Monday, find one thing.

Just one thing.

It can be something that makes you think; something that makes you feel; makes you laugh.

It can be as simple as a fortune cookie fortune that you’ve been carrying around in your pocket or in the cup holder of your car.

It can be a business card sized card with a mantra on it or a smiley face.

It can be a flower petal or a leaf that drifted in your open window.

Whatever it is, give this one thing a little time; focus on it in a mind-wandering way.

Journal, doodle, listen to music along with this one thing. Or do nothing at all.

There is no wrong way to do your one thing this week.

Mental Health Monday – Course Correction

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In trying to find a sub-title for this post, I looked back at my previous posts that related to what’s been going on, and I was kind of pleased to discover that the last time I felt like I’d had a setback was in 2019, in the fall. I know I’ve had moments that go up and down, but this was decidedly different.

I try to be open and talk openly about my struggles and my successes. We all have mental health, and we all must get through any of its manifestations, good, bad, or neutral just like we do when we twist an ankle or get a paper cut.

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