The Blackest Friday

I'm so glad I put only minimal effort into the holidays and don't let stress take over. This year I'm doing holiday cards to business associates. Everyone else will get an e-card and that's that.

For Thanksgiving we met our son's best friend and his Dad at a restaurant.

We celebrate Chanukah. It means lighting candles every night for 8 nights. There's a tradition of gifting, but very small gifts each of the 8 days. I've consolidated that and the only person to get that gift is our son.He's getting a gift membership to the Wildlife Conservation Society, which we can sign up for online or we can go in person to one of the zoos and sign up then and there (and go to the zoo free as members that same day). He even gets a free tee shirt.

Even if I were into more gifts, I hope I would never fall into the crass and revolting materialism that resulted in a worker's death at a WalMart yesterday. For people who don't know, the shoppers outside were so eager to snap up the bargains on Black Friday morning that they stormed into the store at 6 AM, tore the doors off the hinges,and trampled a young man working at the store to death.We have a sick society when buying presents at a low, low price, just so the commercialistic holiday greed can go on even in a bad economy, is more important than a human life. I wonder how the revolting jerks who trampled this poor guy can go home and feel content that they bought their cheap presents. (Actually, the store was closed, so I hope nobody got to buy a damn thing, but the cattle were still streaming into the place, lowing for bargains, as EMT workers were trying to revive the murdered man).

This is the end result of "holiday stress," the pressure to buy presents for everyone under the sun, and the greedy gimmes that society has encouraged people to associate with a holiday season that ought to be about something more spiritual and more caring. That applies whether you celebrate Christmas, Chanuka, Kwanzaa, Diwali, or just the Winter Solstice.

So here's MY suggestion for doing away with holiday stress: Stop giving gifts to people in your family, friends, etc. If you have enough disposable income in these times, make a gift to charity. Right now the food pantries are suffering and more people than ever are on the bread lines. If you've got the money to buy gewgaws then you have the money to make charitable gifts in your loved ones' honor. You can do all that online, no waiting in huge crowds at the mall. Best of all, you'll be sharing the holiday spirit with someone who really needs it, and no store workers or other people will have to be sacrificed. (A pregnant woman was taken to the hospital also, but she turned out to be okay).

About that fancy dinner? Go to a soup kitchen and serve holiday dinner to the homeless or the newly poor. Then get with your family and friends for a potluck some other time when there isn't the commercial pressure to compete with Martha Stewart. Lighten your load, help someone in need, and you can forget holiday stress. You'll be helping others and helping yourself: volunteering is good for your health. This holiday, let's change our ways.

Another Train Wreck

I just finished reading The Glass Castle, a memoir by Jeannette Walls. This was another train wreck about abused and neglected kids. Only this time, the abject poverty wasn't caused by a misguided belief in polygamy, but by an alcoholic father and a self-centered flake of a mother.

I give these kids, Jeannette and her siblings, credit for having the gumption to get the hell out of a horrible situation and flee to New York City. Since they fled in the early seventies, there were still jobs to be had. Three of the four landed on their feet. Oddly, the youngest, who visited other people's homes and got fed there, has been the one who's had the hardest time adjusting.

Ms. Walls may have forgiven her parents but I was less forgiving. From the standpoint of a mother, I could not help but be judgmental about people who failed to feed, properly clothe and house their kids, or even to protect them from danger. That's a parent's job, and these people were the shiftless type that makes a conservative's eyes gleam. Yuppers, they chose to be poor, don't deserve a darn bit of help.

No, they didn't, but their children were helpless victims of their parents' chosen lifestyle, and they most certainly did deserve much more help than they got. Once, a child welfare official came to their home, but there was no follow up. By then the children were well trained to distrust anyone in authority so they wouldn't have told him anything about their living conditions anyway.

Rather than lift a lazy finger to improve their lives, the parents had an excuse and a justification for every one of their failures. If a child got hurt because of the parents' negligence, why, that would just make them strong. Rather than go to the police and complain about a sexual predator who sneaked into the house at night and fondled their daughter, the parents took the attitude of, "See, you are all right. We knew you could deal with it."

These kids wore castoff, junky clothing (not good clothes that were recycled, which would have been fine). They had no food many times and Jeannette described scrounging through the trash after lunch at school, and eating other kids' leftovers. With all their supposed economic troubles, Mom and Dad refused to apply for welfare. They probably knew that their lousy parenting would be exposed and the kids would be hauled off to foster care and a better life. Not that foster care is a picnic, but it would have been better than dumpster diving for dinner.

Whenever some money is found, or the kids save up, the parents misuse it or steal it from their own children. Mommy Worstest buys giant chocolate bars and eats them under the blankets so the kids won't find out. I was glad when her four hungry kids snatched the chocolate away from her and ate it themselves. When the kids find a diamond ring, Mommy decides to wear it instead of selling it for some money to feed her children.

There's mental illness, sure, but the selfishness quotient is extremely high.

Some reviewers have cast doubt on the authenticity of this story. Are there medical records to show that Jeannette really got serious burns by cooking hot dogs unsupervised, at the age of three? Did Daddy Worstest do the "skedaddle" with her, ripping her out of the hospital before she was fully healed? We don't know. It does seem suspicious that, as it comes out at the end, Mommy was sitting on a $1 million parcel of land, and didn't lose it for failure to pay property taxes.

So in the end, I don't know whether it is a true story or a hoax. You see Jeannette's mom in a video on Youtube, and she does look like the bag lady Jeannette says she is. If all this is true, and Jeannette has managed to forgive her parents, she's either a better person than I am, or in major denial. I do wonder about denial, because she writes with such a lack of affect through most of the book. Her first husband "isn't right for her" so she divorces him, but gives us no insight into her feelings about this.

Once I was accused of being a helicopter parent, by a busybody who wasn't a good friend and had no business passing judgment on my child rearing. I think I'm an involved parent, a caring parent, and a strong advocate for my son. If that makes me a helicopter parent, so be it. Yes, I homeschooled Jason for four years, as the Walls parents supposedly homeschooled their kids. But I took it seriously and abided by the state regulations. Yes, we bought hand me downs at the thrift store, but they fit properly, they weren't full of rips and holes, and by golly, all his winter coats zipped or buttoned up to keep him warm.

If there was a problem at school I went in and politely dealt with the issue. Yeah, Rex Walls would have shown up at the school, but he would have been drunk and his belligerence would have only made things worse. Parenting involves sacrifice. Parenting involves watching over your child, taking care of basic needs, taking care of health. These parents failed in all these areas.

So I'm not real impressed with Rex Walls for taking Jeannette into the desert at night and giving her Venus for her Christmas present. Maybe that was a bright spot in her childhood. In an otherwise normal childhood, it would have been a sweet, nonmaterialistic gift. But in this case, it was just a way of being "creative" when the man's pockets were empty, through every fault of his own. And if he'd been smarter he would have used that idea to sell deeds to the stars, just like some company is doing today. Makes a great Christmas gift, and you can even put food on the table.

Parallel Lines

Wednesday night, Bruce, Jason and I watched Nina Davenport's 2003 film, "Parallel Lines." We were previewing it for possible use at a movie night with the Brooklyn Humanist Community.

For that purpose, "Parallel Lines" flunked the test. It was solid documentary where I expected a bit more of a story line from a "docudrama." Still, although it reached no solid conclusions, it was a road movie that captured the thoughts and emotions of so many different Americans.

Some were deeply affected by 9/11, even from thousands of miles away. Others hadn't even heard about the attack until several days later, and it didn't impact much on their emotions or their everyday lives. But for most people, it evoked feelings about loss and sorrow in their own personal histories.

Nina Davenport seemed fearless as she trekked across America, taking the scenic route in order to arrive in New York City in time for New Year's Eve in Times Square. She entered strangers' homes, took boat rides with them, got into their cars to film their responses as they drove. She did, in short, all the things our parents warn us not to do. Yet, she emerged unscathed from all this risky behavior, her deepest wound being the personal sense of loss 9/11 brought out in New York residents.

Ms. Davenport encountered so many lonely people, the entire cast of "Eleanor Rigby." Talking about 9/11 brought out personal tragedies: the mother whose children were taken from her, the flea market man mourning his father's death the week before, the cowboy whose mother had killed his violent father. Davenport stopped in Oklahoma City to speak with a woman who'd escaped death in the Oklahoma City bombing only because she was sick and not at work that day. Her survivor guilt is a mirror for all those who were absent or late to work on 9/11, while their colleagues and friends perished.

Sometimes she encountered negative attitudes: the man who said, what does the United States expect, we've done things like this to people in so many other countries, did we really think it would never happen here? She encounters an elderly black man who is so suspicious that he nearly calls the police on her just for being someone he doesn't recognize. But then he realizes she is not out to hurt anyone, and he invites her into his ramshackle home to tell her his story.

In D.C., suspicion runs rampant. Davenport is nearly arrested for driving around with her camcorder mounted on the roof of her car. She explains over and over that she's making a road movie and the camcorder is filming the view of the open road. Not having any of it, the police tell her to move along. She decides it is high time to get herself back to New York City, the place where she belongs.

Arriving back in NYC on New Year's Eve, Davenport joins the crowds in Times Square, under much heavier security than ever before. But the crowd sees the police as friends and protectors, and when the ball drops at midnight, the police receive loving hugs from the assemblage.

In the final scene, Davenport goes to Ground Zero. Unable to directly look at the wreckage of the World Trade Center's Twin Towers, she films a pigeon on the sidewalk and then films the facial expressions of people as they return from the viewing platform. A fellow photographer breaks down in tears and tells her that he, too, needs to keep some distance from looking directly at the destruction. And thus it ends.

It was a moving film, funny at times, but more often sad. We don't reach a conclusion or a satisfying wrap up. Instead, we're left to make sense of the senselessness of the attack, just as we were in real life.

We Did It!

Listening to the election returns Tuesday night was such a joy. I went into it unsure. Some people were saying that Obama was ahead in the polls. From other sources, I heard that the polls were tightening and the outcome was not so sure.

It's been a long time since I felt the stakes were this high. Maybe all the way back to Nixon's election in 1968 and again in 1972. This time it was different. This time I took an active role in the campaign. Back in the late sixties and early seventies, I was involved in the anti-war movement, but not in the presidential campaigns.

So this was my first experience with working on a presidential campaign. What a sense of excitement there was. I received multiple emails every day asking for donations, and I gave more than I originally planned to because they were so well crafted. Now, I think I'll go fish some of them out of my "old mail" box and keep them as examples of writing that made me whip out the credit card.

Then I began to feel that giving wasn't enough. I wanted to take part in the many phone calling efforts. The first one I responded to was a phone bank at the UAW. I wrote about that and about the chirpy old lady who saw no need for change. In the few weeks that followed, Bruce and I also went to a Move.On party in Brooklyn and a phone bank at the Shorefront Democratic Club in Coney Island. I also tried some phone calling from home, but somehow that wasn't as motivating as sitting in a roomful of other people who were also making calls.

We finished up with another phone bank at the UAW, but I reached none of the target people on November 3rd. Still, I did reach some people and hoped I did some good even if they were relatives of the person I intended to reach.

Tuesday evening I was restless and nervous. I started listening to the radio around 7 PM and listened for the next 5 hours.

The first few returns were pretty predictable. But then Pennsylvania, a battleground state, came in for Obama! That was excellent. The radio announcers were saying this was a very good sign, but they also said it was still possible for McCain to pull an upset.

When Ohio came in it was practically a lock. I woke Bruce up and told him Ohio went for Obama and we high fived each other. After that Bruce stayed up to hear the rest of the returns. Now it was looking extremely good. In order for McCain to win, the announcers said, something really extraordinary would have to happen. I prayed that nothing like that would happen.

My prayers were answered when, at 11 PM, the West Coast came in for Obama as predicted. Not only that, but Obama won Indiana, which hasn't deviated from the Republicans in a generation, and also Florida and Virginia. He not only won, but got something close to twice the electoral votes McCain garnered. That's a landslide in my book!

I wasn't watching on streaming video, which was surely available somewhere on the internet, but we were hearing the reactions, the cheering crowds, people breaking down in tears because they never thought a man with African American ancestry would become President in their lifetimes.

What a joyous moment and what a triumph for us all. It doesn't mean racism is gone, but it means that as a country we've begun to grow up. This time around, the majority of Americans wasn't fooled by all the smearing and the guilt-by-association that was hurled at Obama. Their concerns, the economy, the war, etc., are better served by Obama's plans and ideals than McCain's, and they made their choice without listening to negativity and outright lies.

What a relief and what a breath of fresh air. Now, instead of struggling against the odds as they have for 8 years, organizations looking to bring about positive change will have an easier road ahead of them. Now some of the energy we had to expend in fighting an administration determined to destroy the advances of women, minorities, etc., we'll be able to work WITH the new administration to continue the momentum of positive change.

What a blessing, and truly, God did help those who helped themselves. Change did not come from the top, change came from the bottom up, ordinary people working together in extraordinary ways, making calls, posting on blogs, using Web 2.0 (which I know very little about) to spread the word about President-Elect Barack Obama. This happened thanks to the people who drove to other states to knock on doors and canvass, thanks to so many people who made the time and made the energy to open the door to change and healing for a country that has been so damaged by 8 years of Republican rule.

I know my efforts changed one person's vote. My appeal to her was not a lofty one: I pointed out that McCain had plans to privatize social security and to cut Medicare. That made the difference. But once she went ahead and voted for Obama, she felt more empathy for the African-Americans she saw weeping with joy when the election was called at 11 PM. "I saw how much it meant to them," she said. This was the same woman who told me, a few days earlier, that she could never vote for a black man!

A rabbi once said that if you save a single life it is as if you have saved the world. Did changing one vote save the world? I don't know, but millions of us out there did the same thing, and changed some people's minds.

Now we all have a huge mess to sort out, and Obama is not going to have an easy time of it. We'll need patience, we'll need to be willing to make some sacrifices, and we'll need to keep up our energy to do the work that needs to be done.

But finally...we have that chance. Yes, America, Yes We Did!!

Election Day

So here it finally is, the Election Day that will make history, no matter what happens.

I was at my neurotic best after seeing photos of 8 hour lines for the early voting in other states. So I insisted that we all get up at 4:30 AM and be at the polls by 5:30, even though voting doesn't start until 6 AM. I expected the doors to be locked but they were open and a kindly poll worker allowed us to wait inside and to use the bathroom before the official opening at 6.

A few people tried to cut the line in front of us and I objected. The woman's excuse was that we aren't all going to the same Election District. That may be, but we were still something like 3rd in line and I wasn't going to be moved back by people who came in after us. Fortunately she grumbled but gave in.

At about 6 a number of people came in and the line was just about to the door but I don't think it extended outside. We proceeded to the correct ED and put Jason ahead of us because he had to be at school and needed to get on the subway by about 6:30.

They gave Jason his card and he went in and wasn't able to pull the lever. That's because the machine wasn't properly turned on yet. One of the women at our table didn't even know that the light is supposed to be on, that's what shows the machine is working.

Someone else came over and fixed it and Jason was able to vote. He waited while Bruce and I took care of voting.

Meanwhile, this woman at our table was showing just how ignorant she was. It is amazing that they allowed her to be a poll worker, but I have been through the training and I know that they will take anyone who has a pulse. They give you a few hours of training, and then they give you an open book test during which you are allowed to look up the correct answer. Naturally everyone passes! A bonobo could take a few minutes off from mating with his female relatives, and pass that exam!

This particular woman didn't know how to turn on the machine...even though they teach that at the training. Then she was asked to write up the cards while looking up the names in the book. Oh my, that was just too hard for her. The other woman, who had more smarts, wrote up my card, #3. Then this bozo put my name on card #4. I sure hope my vote isn't disqualified just because this woman is brain dead. I did not vote twice, but it will look like that at the end of the day unless the smarter poll worker tore up card #4.

Then Ms. Ignorant complained that she couldn't write up the cards and look up the names in the book at the same time. She threatened to quit on the spot because she was being expected to do "all that at once." Another poll worker basically told her to shut up, she wasn't going to leave.

I foresee some problems in my election district today, because this woman couldn't even handle the situation when there were only 5 people on line waiting to vote. Just wait until later today when a huge crowd shows up after work. They'll probably have to haul her off in a strait jacket.

Anyhow, I am very glad we voted early, and my fingers are crossed for Obama and all the Democrats. This country has suffered for 8 years and it is surely time for a big breath of fresh air.

Halloween photos

Jason as "Cousin Itt" and Adriana as Mother Goose

Antoinette as Devil Woman, Michael as Rastaman, Celeste & Bruce as Gomez and Morticia Addams

Graveyard Cake