Remembering Mummy

My mother passed away 10 years ago today.  I've previously written a couple of stories about this remarkable woman you might enjoy:

What was Good Enough for Mom is Good Enough for Me

A Lifetime of Letters

We love and miss you, Momma -

The America in Jeopardy Show

If you haven't paid much attention to where taxpayer money is going, or what we're unknowingly supporting, you're not alone.  I know, it's boring to research every shady deal; so here, in perfect 2026 communication format, is a YouTube video from Oregon's Senator Jeff Merkley, which places the Golden Goose Eggs in one basket:

America in Jeopardy, featuring participants Senators Elizabeth Warren, Chris Van Hollen and Tina Smith, is highly entertaining.
Certainly enlightening.
Definitely alarming.

Time To Ponder

It's been a couple of weeks since my mental shift, so how's it going?  Pretty well - I make a conscious decision each morning that I'll either have a good day or a crappy one, my choice.  Any time my mind drifts to unpleasant subjects or people, I nudge myself to turn off the tube or change the radio station.  I know horrible things continue to occur, but I also know I'm doomed to breathe for another 30 years so I'd better learn to deal with my reactions.

This is my Tino, who I'd hoped to introduce to all my friends and grow old with.  Didn't happen, for one year later he was gone; that was 30+ years ago.  I mention it now because last night I had a dream, something I rarely have.  I used to dream all the time - vivid technicolor movies with me being an active participant, often flying.  I could wake up several times and always return to my place in the dream, like pausing a VCR.

But finding Tino's lifeless body on the floor shocked my system such that I stopped dreaming but once in a blue moon.  I always thought that was God adding insult to injury, but what can you do?

Anyway, in my dream I got hit by the proverbial bus I keep talking about; after which I was immediately enveloped by Tino's presence, that's the only way I can describe it.  That was all, but it was enough.  Didn't care about the unfinished project nor my unsold possessions.  Nothing - not a care - just Tino's love.  That was enough to reassure me that he, and others, are waiting for me; I choose to believe.  My turn will come.  Nothing to do but keep plugging away like everyone else, but at least since I've been ordering up a good 'tude each morning, my spirit has lightened, and that's nice. Pretty easy, too; what's taken me so long?

I was going to write about things like our Patriot missile aresenal being decimated to shoot down drones; for what if our enemies decide to hit all at once?  'Caught with our pants down,' I can't be the only one thinking that; and getting rid of experienced Generals and Admirals in favor of Stepford Husbands doesn't seem like the smartest move.

People are worried about Abdul El-Sayed in the same manner others would react to Charlie Kirk being elected to the Senate.  The idea of socialists taking over the country doesn't frighten me, for there are different kinds of socialism, just like any ideology.   We've got to acknowledge that people with similar sentiments exist all over the country, and we'd better work together before we blow it all apart. 

It wouldn't be difficult to prevent if Checks and Balances still existed, but they started by getting rid of Inspectors General and worked up to the Supreme Court so that, unfortunately, we no longer seem to have anything of the sort at the top.

I also pondered to myself, "If Donald Trump dies in office, does that mean Melania will take over?  Or one of his sons?"  That's why we have the VP, you say, but will we have one in the future?

Before my, Gonna have a GOOD day - day, I spent too much time wondering about stuff like that; or how many people are going to vote for Donald's picks; how many election-deniers are in influential positions; will the Post Office deliver my ballot?  I hope I'll still be allowed to vote.

So I'll brush off my negativity and head for work, which is slow because the Canadians aren't coming down to visit and gasoline prices are so high.  Takes mucho dinero to fill a monster RV.

Was Pearl Bailey's 'Hello, Dolly!' Wokish?

The first time I saw Hello, Dolly! was in 1967; with the first all-Black production staring Pearl Bailey and Cab Calloway and let me tell you, it was fabulous. I was 12, and it made a positive impact - what could be accomplished not only by Black people but ANY person.  Here's a synopsis from Life magazine:

"The musical Hello, Dolly! made its Broadway debut in 1964 and was an instant smash with Carol Channing in the title role. Three years later, when ticket sales were starting to slump, producer David Merrick retooled with an entirely black cast that featured Pearl Bailey as the lead and Cab Calloway as her love interest. The move was such a success that it landed Bailey on the cover of LIFE. And it also drew the attention of the sitting U.S. President."

In a good way.  I didn't consider that 'wokish' back then because the word didn't exist, or at least wasn't part of our vocabulary; but my thinking was also influenced by growing up (until 8) in an inner-city neighborhood in NYC, where everyone had a different familial background.  That continued as we-all moved into the suburbs.  It certainly broadened my thinking in ways that small, relatively isolated communities don't experience in the same way so they consider new things dangerous.  Consider the times then and now.

So what if a Black actress is playing Helen of Troy?  How many White actors have played Black and Brown characters?  Think Othello.  OK, it's not too common, but why should it be?

Whenever I've asked, "What does woke mean?"  to someone who's criticizing an idea or person as being too woke, I get blank stares and some mumbo-jumbo which only magnifies their ignorance.  I looked it up just now to see what AI would provide, easy enough for anybody to do, and this sums it up:

"Origins: It builds on the older African-American Vernacular English term "woke", which meant being alert to racial prejudice. 

Modern Usage: It often refers to policies, corporate statements, or media that adopt social justice language in a mild or half-hearted way. 

Critical View: Opponents use "wokish" to dismiss trends they view as intrusive or trend-following rather than genuinely helpful."

So there you go.  I also saw Carol Channing in a Portland production of Hello, Dolly! in 1995 and she was terrific, too; a true icon.  Had a thick mask of makeup including the batty black eyelashes she was famous for, but it didn't matter.

It was her PERFORMANCE which mattered, as it should with Lupita Nyong'o's Helen.

Come on, people, let's not turn everything into a WOKE issue.  We're smarter than that.

What If An Unexpected Upset Snatched Half Your Annual Income?

Six thousand dollars may not seem like much to you, but let's put it in perspective:  what would you do if a major home repair or doctor's bill suddenly required half of your annual income?  A $25, $50 or $100,000 bill at one time, boom.  Happy Birthday.

I'm still wrapping my head around it.  I rationalized how I'd prefer the bill over a 3-year car payment, imagining how to get along without my own transportation.  A friend offered to buy me an adult tricycle, but even with 3 wheels my balance wouldn't master the challenge.  And besides, there aren't bike paths around here.

So I tighten my belt even more by not going anywhere, not doing anything, not volunteering anyplace because of gas prices (over $5 here) plus fear of more repairs.  Someone else might have to give up a child's Summer Camp; yank out teeth instead of repairing them; move.

You have my sympathies, but not the President's.  $2.2 billion is what DJT is estimated to have made last year alone.  He wants to be the richest man on the planet or at the very least the United States; but he's got a long way to go to match Elon so I don't know about you, but I'm preparing for even higher prices.

Like everyone else I'm trying to keep my spirits up in these crazy times.  Fractured families; continuing inflation; stripping away people's rights; wars, plural; he's not finished yet.  I don't care about guilded statues, ballrooms and arches - I'd rather have a bit more SNAP benefits because of increasing food prices.  Consider this assumption:  unhealthy eating leads to increased health costs, so it would be cheaper to feed us than to nurse us.

I'm on the tail-end of my 70th year, which has caused much contemplation over the  past months.  Not in a morbid way, but my time left doesn't seem as indefinite as it used to; acknowledging I could get hit by a bus tomorrow.  So I'm re-watching favorite movies, for it may be the last time I watch it; that kind of thing.

All of the aforementioned has converged at this moment to cause what I'm hoping will be a permanent mental shift.  Recently, after spending way too much time and energy being annoyed by some young Gen-whatever with a 'tude, reliving the gripe over and over, I considered,

"If this was my last day on Earth, do I want to think that I spent it contemplating revenge on someone who, in the grand scheme of things, matters to me not-in-the-least?"

Do I want my final thoughts to be worrying about what some schmuck in the Oval Office is up to, or how well I spent the day; it's up to me. I choose the latter; but I'll have to make that same decision every single morning for the rest of my life; or until it becomes a habit, which Mom always said takes 6 weeks. That's a big change that will only be accomplished through work and discipline.

Which is how I managed to change my thinking over my $6,000 car repairs.  Yesterday I bitch-slapped myself by reminding Me that if I was still in my old place - paying rent parked on someone's property or in a Section 8 shithole, scraping together every cent to make the rent Slumlords demand - I could not have surmounted the car repairs. But fortunately I cleaned up my credit rating after Bankruptcy and the IRS were finished with me, so I was able to charge a good portion on credit cards, which I didn't have back then.  There's an example of why, "People are charging more," as if it's all on frills.

Considering my situation right now, I'm MUCH better off.

So I don't live in a house with solid walls.  So I don't get to take a vacation until 2028 (I'm hoping).  So I'm back to Iceberg instead of Romaine and only eat two eggs on special occasions.  So I won't get another dog for companionship out of fear of added expenses. So I am forgotten by my own government.

What the hell, I've still got me, and that'll be good enough.

PS:  On a separate note, the 90,000 acre Grasshopper Fire in eastern Oregon is starting to blow into Canada, so does that mean they can charge us like Trump said we could charge them because of smoke in America? Ahhh...I just heard the President is pausing tariffs on Canada...

"You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."

"Failure to Control Your Dependents"

My Army husband (not him) got into hot water a number of times because of something I did or said, so I can't help wondering what's going to happen to the Naval personnel whose relatives are speaking up about poor conditions on the USS Abraham Lincoln.  Parents are different - but spouses and children - that's ostensibly under the control of the servicemember.  Here's an AI-nutshell:

"In the United States military, there is no direct criminal charge or specific Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) article titled "failure to control dependents." However, a service member can still face serious command or administrative actions if their family members break laws, violate base rules, or cause major disruptions."

One time in particular stands out (c.1983) when White Sands Missile Range, NM, hired tree trimmers to address the entire base; and they were about as good as the contractor who painted the Reflection Pool.  Men wielding chainsaws were all over the place, indiscriminately disfiguring the trees without any perceived expertise.

With Papillon-mix, Boots

Trees on the base were not plentiful so we all cherished any shade we could get out in the middle of the desert.  One Army-wife went out to ask them to please leave alone the tree newly planted in front of her quarters.  I don't know much about trees but it was a small stick with a clump on top about 7 or 8 feet tall?  They'd recently planted a bunch around the housing area.

So what does the young fellow do?  Takes his chainsaw and cuts the tree off halfway down, smiling at the lady.  That's not the only story I heard; and they weren't exactly difficult to prove.

I had two apricot trees next to one another in the backyard and I can't stand apricots.  Our first year there the trees were full of them, dropping all over the place, nasty mess.  Neighbors came by to take whatever they wanted, blech.

During the second year I became interested in canning, probably because for a year I'd heard over and over about the possibilities I was wasting.  I'd watched Mom try canning one time - the boiling water and glass jar-bit, no thanks.  Then I found a recipe for preserves you only needed to stick in the freezer after cooking, lasts 6 months; I could manage that.

But when it came time, there were no apricots.  There had been hardly any flowers but I hadn't put two-and-two together (as I say, not a horticulturist).  I was so bummed - had the jars and the know-how - then I learned that trees don't bear fruit every year.

OK, live and learn.  Third year comes around and the trees were loaded with flowers, both of 'em, just turning to fruit; when I came home from work to discover my beautiful trees had been raped.  This one in the front was hacked up somewhat but the back - all the flowering limbs were gone and my shock turned to anger - they couldn't have waited a couple of weeks - gone on to other houses then come back? (Photo: my '79 MG Midget - wasn't she a beaut?)

Anyone with a suggestion, comment (or complaint, I took it to mean) was free to call the Commanding General's Tip Line, so I did.  I gave my opinion of the workers; rebuked the Army for doing the opposite of what they asked of us: caring for the miilitary's housing; and invoking Lizzie Borden at some point.

And like the honest idiot I was (and too often still am) I identified myself and my Sponsor's info.  My memory's a bit hazy about exactly how-all that was transmitted; but I do remember hubby coming home, none too happy about being called on the carpet by his CO.  This stuff goes into their records, depending on the offense, and it wasn't the first time nor the last, unfortunately for them - I had two Ex's in the military, both deceased.

Anyway, fast-forward to today's news about the ship's terrible conditions.  I don't doubt the sailor's claims, but I also heard it was more of a problem in the beginning, when things were getting sorted out; even some of the complainers agree things got better.  Clogged toilets, bad food & water and no soap are in a separate category than what's going on inside their heads, at least to me.

I can somewhat appreciate the mental anxiety they're going through because thev've not had any shore leave and are experiencing a deep sense of isolation.  Here's my experience:

Twice, in the 1970s and 1980s, (we) were transferred to Germany for 3 year stints; 18 months for non-accompanied personnel.  Waiting for mail call was a highlight, and we used a pay phone in the mail room at really expensive rates per minute to call home - on Thanksgiving/Christmas/Special Occasions ONLY.

We had ONE television channel - Armed Forces Network (AFN) and so if you wanted to watch TV you had to sit through Hee Haw or The God Squad - a weekly 1/2 hour program with a (military) Priest and Rabbi (and maybe someone else?) offering differing points of view, really quite interesting - they should do that now.  We also suffered through terrible Public Service commercials like this photo and a voice warning, Nothing smaller than THIS. Huh????

Point being, things weren't exactly cushy then; so part of me can't help wondering if the distress so many are experiencing is the result of the conditions or the Generation?  Boy, I could get slammed for that, but Baby Boomers know what I'm talking about.

Mom on my Christmas call

We were all homesick, most of us, at different levels; and it was hard on our families back home, for all Moms want to see their babies.  My husband was often called to remain at the missile base for days on end and I wouldn't have a clue as to his well-being unless a message was passed along.  It wasn't combat but there was a constant sense that things could go wrong, and what's the first things fired off in wars?

So that's my backstory.  Still, it's not fair to compare the relatively-comfy conditions (we) experienced back then and what's happening now. However, in today's world of instant gratification, impatience with anything longer than 10 seconds and inability to communicate to an actual person, what am I to think?  What are Vietnam Veterans to think?

It's hard for servicemembers to ask for mental help, for whatever goes into your record can make the difference between being promoted and being RIF'd, or asked to leave.  But isn't that what friends are for?  Didn't anyone other than a wife (via text) on the other side of the world notice something was wrong?  Whose fault is that?  I've known more than one person who got out of the military by convincing doctors they're crazy - I think I'd try that before diving off the deck of an aircraft carrier.  Not everyone's cut out for the military, no shame in that.

My take, that's all.  Therefore, in this instance I don't 100% believe either 'side', not that I'm defending Hegseth.  But like so many things, I believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.  I hope they all safely return home soon.

PS:  I came to love mixing apricot preserves with a bit of soy sauce and lemon as a basting sauce for pork.  I even grew to enjoy Hee Haw.