OF COURSE HILLARY CAN BE PRESIDENT…BUT SHOULD SHE?

Don’t let the title fool you; I support and admire Hillary Clinton.  I worked in the previous Clinton Administration.  I believe the pundit who predicts that someday in a cemetery will lie side-by-side Presidents named Clinton.  However, because Hillary can do this, should she?

Hillary has been on a path to the White House since her graduation speech at Wellesley in 1968.  She earned national admiration and accolades long before she met the brilliant, ambitious and charismatic boy from Arkansas.  When she followed Bill to Little Rock it was a move that could have been the end of her own political career.   Perhaps she thought that furthering his political ambition would be enough. My, my, what she did for love.  It’s been said that without her, he would never have been more than the most popular professor at the University of Arkansas.  Hillary has always been a match for his brilliance and ambition, but has carried complementary skills at being organized, focused, strategic, and disciplined.  In the 1992 presidential campaign, the “buy one, get one free” theme offered their powerful synergy, and those who didn’t like that idea seemed small-minded to me. But there were many of them.  That was only the first sign that her journey on the national stage would not be a smooth one.

 

In spite of all the Clinton scandals (real and imagined) and the attacks on her and her family, and all the wounds (including self-inflicted) she has persisted, sometimes reminiscent of Don Quixote on a courageous quest to reach the unreachable.  Now, after her terms in the Senate and as Secretary of State, she has continued to build an excellent resume and established herself as a formidable, highly qualified candidate who has the strength, experience, and skills to be an outstanding President.

In 2008 there were a good many of us who decided to support Barack Obama because of a nagging fear of a return to all the Clinton Drama, which seemed inevitable, given the Clintons’ tendency to allow molehills to grow into mountains, and because of the how hateful the anti-Clintons behave.  Over time, as she performed admirably as Secretary of State and it looked more likely she would run in 2016, it began to look as though we could confidently see her as the inevitable next President.  It seemed a foregone conclusion in part because the GOP field of possibles has been so….so…….  But more than that, it was assumed that by now, eight years later, the worst of the attacks and drama against the Clintons would be over.  Wrong.

When she was questioned by Congress about the tragedy at Benghazi, many of us understood what she meant when she said, “What difference does it make?” yet she handed the haters a video weapon to use against her.  In recent weeks her opponents have resurrected her husband’s well-known “woman problem” to criticize her handling of those scandals of decades ago. Whether one agrees with how she handled it at that time, by defending and staying with her straying husband, she is tarred in 2016 as an accomplice.  Her haters have no shame; must poor Monica Lewinsky’s life be tarnished again for a mistake she made when she was 21?

During the neverending email controversy, she hurt herself by acting bitter, annoyed, arrogant, and humorless.  Then her campaign felt obligated to announce that she would be more charming and spontaneous, to chuckles and eye rolls, because this is a woman who clearly doesn’t love public life and makes her worst mistakes trying to be private.  As a young lawyer, Hillary worked on Capitol Hill during the Nixon crash and burn; she is well aware of the danger of allowing paranoia to be self-defeating, yet she sometimes shows her opponents just where to stick the knife with their manufactured scandals.

Most Americans may be “sick and tired of her damn emails” but her enemies will not be deterred now, or after she gets to the White House.  Their hatred for Hillary is so unyielding that until and unless she retires from public life, they will hound her forever.   If she were President, could she get anything positive accomplished for the American people? Or would she spend too much time fighting those who will never let her be? When Donald Trump, the highest polling GOP candidate at present, can get away unchallenged when he says that she was “the worst Secretary of State in history”, and her alleged incompetence led to “thousands of deaths.”  And even reasonable Joe Scarborough says she lies when she says there were private emails kept by her predecessors, how can she talk about terrorism, foreign policy, or any other issues, such as education, or poverty, or health care?

Hillary, do you really want this job? Just because you CAN get elected, should you?

WHO IS THAT GUY ON THE STREET?

In January of 2014, Jacquelyn Martin, an Associated Press photographer, was taking random pictures around Washington, D.C..  One photo, of a scruffy, dazed young man bundled up on a freezing day warming himself near a heat grate, was published in USA Today and widely circulated.  By pure random luck, his family saw the photo and located their missing son, who had recently gone missing from their home in upstate New York.   Take note:  every “crazy” person on the street is not without people who care.  “Martin said the episode serves as a reminded to journalists that every person they encounter has a story to tell.”

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It hits me worse at this time of year whenever I see a street person -- ragged, sad, cold, sunburned, with or without a sign telling me why.  I experience a painful, but momentary conflict about what to do about it.  My thoughts -- How awful!  How did she end up here?  There was a time in my own family when she could have been my own child.  Could he be dangerous?  What if I stop my car and cause a traffic problem? Dig out my purse and hand out a bill if I have one? He will just buy drugs or whiskey.  That will do him more harm than good. Should I home and get an old coat, a hat, a scarf, and bring it back to her?  Pick up a sandwich and return to hand it out the window?  

At times I have done each of these things.  

But most times I have done nothing, and I drive away when the traffic light turns green feeling badly about myself.  In that split second of indecision, it takes too much courage and inconvenience to do what I think is needed.

There is a young man that sits every day on a bench outside the CVS in my town.  He is lanky, his beard longish and scruffy, his clothing worn.  He sits there every day smoking cigarettes and staring.  Once I saw two police officers talking to him.   Apparently, someone called them to report him, but he was not breaking any laws.  I overheard them deciding that he wasn't a danger to anyone; they drove off. 

I go to that shopping center often, and the more I saw this young man, something began to grab me about him.  He reminded me of someone.  He could be anyone's brother, son.  I wanted to know his name.  On a recent stop at CVS I picked up a healthy snack and drink along with my necessaries:  Christmas wrap, makeup and medicine.  When I left, I walked up to him where he was sitting, smoking a cigarette.  Up close, I was surprised at his sweet face; his smooth skin and clear eyes.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

He stared.

I noticed he sat with a shopping bag full of things others had handed him.  He was not unnoticed by others; I felt relieved.

I handed him the food.  "What's your name?"

"Matt."

"Hi Matt.  Do you live in McLean?"

"I used to."

Conversation was going nowhere. "And now you live here on this bench."

He stared.

I looked straight into his eyes. Empty.  "Take care of yourself." I told him, then I walked away.  

Matt haunts me.  Every time I drive by the CVS, I look for him.  When I see him there, I feel helpless.  How did my greeting and snack not help him?  How is it he has a bag of things people have handed him, yet he sits there day after day in his narrow little world? 

I am not stupid.  In fact, I know exactly why he is there, and exactly why I cannot help him. I am the mother of two children who have grown up with mental illness and have occasionally been able to get the treatment that can change their lives for the better.  

Matt may be a lost cause; somewhere a family grieves for him.  I just know it.

Star Trek Beyond - Trailer (2016) - Paramount Pictures

Freeze frame the "written by screen" and see my son's name.  He and his writing partner have put in 15 years of work for this moment.

HEY!  REMEMBER SANDY HOOK?

The Christmas season, the season of love, family, celebration, and joy, is also marked by a terrible anniversary.  It has been three years since a sick young man slaughtered 20 babies and six teachers in their school with his military style combat weapon.  For the families of those killed, and those who still think and care about it, today marks an anniversary of how little has been done since that horrifying event.  How easy it seems to be to move on and forget. 

Oh, right, one reason is because Sandy Hook has been eclipsed by too many other such slaughters.  Some 554 children have died in gun violence since Sandy Hook.   It seems our legislators have been stunned into numbness by repeated, shocking episodes of violence that have affected every region, every state. 

Are we not the United States?  The strongest hope for the world?  Why are we not united on this issue?  Governors and states have tried to tinker with addressing this problem, but the only way gun violence can be reduced (not ended -- we know this) is for a united, federal, program with vigorous, vigilant enforcement.  Why is it so hard to get this done, when polls show that the majority of Americans agree?

I am the mother of a dead child.  He did not die by gunfire in his kindergarten class, or in a movie theater, or a mall.  He was not little.  Nevertheless, the pain I feel every moment of every day of his loss I can imagine is magnified a thousandfold for those who have lost those little children on December 14, 2012.  My heart aches for them, and for this country that has been unable to do a thing to lessen their pain, even a little. 

Shame on us.

WHY DID I CRY THROUGHOUT THE MOVIE “BROOKLYN”?

            At least five minutes into this beautiful film about a young Irish woman moving to America in the 1950s, the tears started.  “Brooklyn” taps into something profound and universal that should make all of us take notice, Irish or not. 

One can’t help but be moved watching the faces of Irish mothers waving sadly to their children departing on a ship for America.   A scene in New York of old Irish men getting their Christmas dinner at church tugs the heart as one of them sings alone, a  sorrowful lament in Gaelic.  In that moment it is not necessary to speak that language; the sense of loss and yearning is palpable.

            I didn’t grow up hearing stories of my immigrant past.  There was something about being Irish, but it was always followed by a joke.  There was no yearning for the old country, because it was a given that the reason for leaving was desperation, poverty, oppression.  “Brooklyn” captures the wave of immigrants who came out of the need to begin a new life with unlimited possibilities.  We don’t often see or ponder the difficulty of leaving behind the only life one has known to start over again in an alien place where one has no friends or family.  In “Brooklyn” we feel the unbearable loneliness and the questioning of the decision to emigrate.   Homesickness is described by a kindly Irish immigrant priest as an illness one suffers terribly for awhile, then it moves on to someone else.  Our nation’s immigrant past and present is far more complex than the narrative of a joyful arrival at the great “city on the hill.” “Brooklyn” reminds us to understand and appreciate the courage it took for our predecessors to come here.

            As “Brooklyn” comes to an end, the tears leave slowly.  In the sold-out theater where I saw it, this affecting movie kept much of the audience remaining for many minutes, Kleenex at hand.

PEOPLE STRUGGLING WITH EMOTIONAL ISSUES NEED A PLACE TO BE:   SOMETHING TO CONSIDER

One of the obstacles facing families who have a member suffering from mental illness or addiction is finding a place for them to live where they can be "looked after" to the extent their illness necessitates.  Many of those who live with mental illness can manage on their own as adults; take their medications, eat healthily, keep a house, and keep a job, but too many need others in their life to monitor their self-care.   When that person cannot live alone, and aging parents who have previously taken care of their adult child need to find a home for him, where can they turn?  Group homes are sometimes the answer, but there aren't enough of them and they are difficult to find.  They often have long waiting lists.

I just learned of an interesting approach that dates back centuries; and it gives me another proud Irish moment.  It was an Irish Saint -- Dymphna -- whose experience long ago became the basis for a spiritual evolution that led to humane and family centered care for those whose daily lives are affected by issues of the mind.  A small town in Belgium has been opening its doors to these people for centuries.  Yes, centuries.  Mental illness isn't a new phenomenon.  In the village of Geel, people with mental illness live as "boarders" in the homes of other villagers in Geel.  It is a town full of people living out their lives in health and peace.

See the details in the following internet posting.

http://www.upworthy.com/the-families-in-this-town-have-welcomed-the-mentally-ill-into-their-homes-for-the-last-700-years?c=reccon1

THEATER RECOMMENDATION
(I don't always write about mental illness or my pet peeves and snarky opinions!)

Get tickets NOW and go see the Shakespeare Theater's production of "Kiss Me, Kate." Amazing sets, lots of laughs, breathtaking music and choreography. The full house LOVED it. A standing ovation for the "Lois Lane" actress Robyn Hurder, who got extended applause for every scene she stole as she channeled the old days of Marilyn Monroe and Gwen Verdon. Go see it. Then see it again.

Truth for today:  What would we do without whimsy?

Nothing is Lost

A sock. A glove.  A puzzle piece. A key.

All are somewhere we can’t see.

Where have they been tossed?

Everything is somewhere.

Nothing is lost.

Everything is somewhere.

We look and look some more.

A sock should have a partner, a key should fit a door

A puzzle can’t be left undone.

We need to know that these aren’t gone.

Everyone is somewhere.

No one is lost.

When the puzzle piece we cannot find

Is someone that we love

The empty space fills with memory

That fits like a phantom glove.

We see them in our heart and mind

We meet them in our dreams.

Dreams and memory must suffice

Though a completed puzzle would be nice.

Somewhere in the universe

Are socks and gloves and keys.

We cannot know where they exist

It’s one of those mysteries.

Even though they may be missed

Nothing is lost.