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Five Things That Make Life Better on August 17th 2018


Hi again.  I hope that by the time you are reading or listening to this blog I will have made my inaugural swim in the ocean for this summer.  Fingers crossed.  Toes crossed.  I am prepared to think no deeper thoughts than, "should I eat the guacamole?" or "It might be time to turn over."  I will undoubtedly pack too many books and not enough clothes, but we're visiting close friends who live informally and won't care.

On to this week's list:


1.  I was late to the party on the fascinating documentary, "Three Identical Strangers."  I saw it last weekend, and have been thinking about it since.   It's about identical triplets who were separated at birth.  (No, seriously.)  I've been fascinated by identical twins since I read a book about the notorious "Silent Twins," June and Jennifer Gibbons years ago.  (They spoke only to one another and became criminals -- that's the short version.)  These brothers, who are now 56 years old tell their own story with urgency.  They seem to have imprinted every detail from 35 years ago.  The whole film whips up its energy quickly and sustains it throughout.  The central question is nurture or nature, but threaded throughout are ethical questions about the adoption agency that placed these babies apart from one another.  If you haven't seen it, do.  


2.  I love weddings.  I read the wedding notices -- (that's what my mother calls them, so that's what I call them) -- in the Sunday paper.  I am entertained by the couples' individual stories and the how-they-met stories; the romance and hopefulness make for a nice way to greet the morning.  (And no one else at my house wants to read that section first, a real plus.)  But I don't attend many weddings at this point.  Just a few of the children of my close friends at this point.  Four so far, one to go in September.  They've each been delightful and romantic and festive.  Last weekend's wedding was a big surprise because the weather was so gloomy and the ceremony had been planned for outdoors.  I guess my expectations were cloudy with a chance of meatballs.  But the tents were beautiful and festooned with flowers, branches, rose petals, and candles.  And air conditioning!  The mother of the bride did a stupendous job.  And the couple read their own vows, which were touching and helped us learn more about the young man our friends' daughter had chosen as her mate.

3.  Quiet Heroism.  How many of you have already seen the video of the young Swedish student who protested the deportation of an Afghani citizen who was seeking asylum in Sweden?  I am posting the link here.  I watched it twice before I fully understood what I was watching.  This young woman was poised, determined, brave, and inspiring.



My very preferred way to read is with a paperback in my hand.  I could be sitting up, reclining, or somewhere in between the two, but I love a softcovered book.  I do own a significant number of hardcovers:  a book that's special, or I can't wait until it's released in paperback, or a friend wrote it (how else are they going to make a dime?) -- for sure.  But when I want to read on the move?  A paperback.  When I want to read on the beach?  A paperback.  When I want to throw something into my purse for emergencies?  A paperback.  Preferably purchased at an independent bookstore.  As readers of this blog already know, I am experimenting with books on tape.  But without a long drive or commute to get it going, I am experimenting slowly. (I myself recorded my last book, True Prep, on tape, with help from voice actor #ExhibitA.  It was harder to read than I had ever imagined.  I wrote it to be read, not said. )

5.  Does it seem like this investigation has gone on forever?  I for one cannot imagine how messy and labyrinthine the enterprise is.  Kudos to My perpetual Object of Gratitude:  Robert S. Mueller.


Wishing him and you a terrific weekend.

Until next week, stay cool and act natural.


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Five Things That Make Life Better on August 10th 2018

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1. I love a newsstand.  I am one of those people who loves to read words on a page.  Of paper, though of course, I read on my thingie all day and night.  But a newsstand -- a big one, with foreign magazines and obscure titles fills me with delight.   I discover new writers, new subjects, new destinations to dream about, and new clothes to covet.  I discover new editors I want to write for.  Newsstands at airports tend to be better than the kiosks on the street, which now seem to mostly sell tabloids and cold drinks.  In a time of waning print publications, I find newsstands a reassuring nod to the way things used to be.

2. When I type "Good Places to Cry" in my Google search bar, 6 seconds later I get 10 pages of listings.  "Best Places to Cry on Campus," "Best Public Places for a Secret Cry,"  "17 Best Places to Cry in St. Louis," "Best Subway Lines to Cry On,"  "Top Places for Dudes to Cry," and so on.  I was inspired by the sight of a woman having a big cry, talking on her cellphone on Tuesday afternoon.  I tried to avert my eyes out of respect and to give her privacy, though I wanted also to give her a warm smile and say it was okay.  (What was okay?  Maybe it wasn't.  In any case, it was none of my business.)   I've had those days.  This summer has been harder than usual for all the usual reasons and some uncommon ones too.  


I found myself fighting tears today watching a video of a parent and child who were reunited after 47 days apart, thanks to ICE.  The tiny child didn't seem sure it was really her mother opening her arms for a hug.  On Facebook, a distant friend wrote about his young nephew's death by suicide, and I did cry.  The pain this young man experienced was wrenching, as was the unbearable feelings of helplessness and loss by his family.  What I'm saying is there's no point in tamping down your feelings and keeping a stiff upper lip.  Every now and then we just need to weep.  Google your home city to get recommended locations.

3.  I went to a new butcher the other day -- a throwback -- a stand-alone beautifully curated butcher shop with young (it's a relative term) men behind the counter, who were very helpful.  I bought 2 and a half pounds of London Broil and a meat thermometer, and learned a thing or two about cooking meat.  The butchers told me to salt the beef before cooking, but not to use pepper until after the meat was done.  Why?  Because you get the full floral range of the pepper after the cooking.  (Also something about the taste not being as good.)  I enjoyed the exchange so much I asked if the shop delivered, offering the shopkeepers my highest compliment:  return business.  No, I was told.  "We like our community and like to talk to our customers."  You know what?  I like that they like those things.  I'll be back, Hudson & Charles.

 Actual butchers (not life size)

Actual butchers (not life size)

4. Separated At Birth.  I did not create the beloved feature in Spy Magazine, though I was responsible for keeping it going for the year or less I was an editor there.  Lately I've been honing my skill at finding lookalikes.  (This part will be tough in the podcast, I know.)  I now present to you Peter O'Toole and Armie Hammer:

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Now, Brett Kavanaugh and Martin Short, respectively.

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5.  He celebrated his 74th birthday this week.  He has the enormous responsibility to sieve through the muck and then prove that Russia interfered with our 2016 presidential election.  It hasn't been easy and it won't be pretty.  Happy Birthday to my hero, My Top 5 Solid Citizen, Robert S. Mueller!  

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Stay cool, and act natural!




Five Things That Make Life Better on August 3rd 2018

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And so August has begun.  It seems dramatic somehow, as if the summer accelerated even more than it usually does. Perhaps I'm thinking of the projects I had planned to tackle this summer -- some of which rolled over from last summer -- or maybe because we've had many dark and gloomy days.  No one's enjoying great weather this summer.  London has hit the high 90s this summer, which it never does, and California has had weeks and weeks in the hundreds.  I again retreat to my air conditioned living room, where Henry lies by my feet, and WQXR provides an occasional distraction.

But I digress.  Here are this week's treats:

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1.  It's CONVERSATION.  Not the art of it, just the having it.  It hurts every time I see people sitting across from one another staring down into their phones.  It reminds me of the term "parallel play", which I learned as the mother of a toddler -- it's people too undeveloped to have social skills who are content to play alongside another person.  It's perfect if you're 2 years old; not impressive if you're 12.  Or 42.  I adore talking to people; especially friends, especially if we both respect the art of listening.  (NOTE:  It is difficult to listen if you are studying your cellphone.  No matter what you think.)


2. Fresh Basil.  If you've been paying attention, you know I enjoy summer's fresh bounty.  I have confessed to my love of corn on the cob (especially prepared "Mexican Street Style"), half and half, salads of all kinds, fried chicken, and cherries.  Please know how much I appreciate fresh basil.  It tastes like summer.  It smells like summer.  It smells like something I would wear as fragrance.  (I know several perfumers use the essence of basil in their fragrances; it is that appealing.)  It is such a pretty leaf to add to a salad or a bowl of pasta or pizza, or even a bowl of cut up plums.  

3.  Cotton Voile.  

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Cotton voile is hard to illustrate, but it's the sheerest, lightest woven cotton fabric I know.  It's the perfect material to wear in the muggy days of August.  It's often the thin material on the tunic-style tops that look like they were made in (and for) India.  I have a couple of cotton voile tops and dresses.  I buy cotton voile shirts for my fella, when I find them.  They are one's best defense in a muggy world.


4.  The Accidental Carnivore.

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I have a very close friend who was stuck in a small regional hospital for three weeks.  She was never sick a day in her life, and in fact ate only organic everything.  She had pledged "never to eat anything with a soul" (that included fish) in 1972.  She even used Dr. Bronner's Soap.  She was the picture of robust health as she entered her eighth decade on planet earth, and she frequently hiked the nearby Appalachian Trail.  Until July 4th, when she suddenly had a fever of 104.  By week 2, no one had any idea what caused these terrible fevers, but her systems were shutting down.  Somehow, my friend decided one day that she was not too tired or weak to fight, and she began to rally.  When her pneumonia cleared up and her hemoglobin dropped to a dangerously low level, my buddy managed to eat one roast beef sandwich... and then another.  Her hemoglobin went up. She ate a steak.  Then a turkey sandwich.  The accidental carnivore has been improving ever since.  And now, as of today, she's back home, even though no one ever figured out what caused her mystery illnesses.  I wish her a happy and relieved welcome!  And I can't wait to share a plate of fried chicken with her.

5.  I find that as the heat and humidity increase, people act nuttier.  People pick fights at the ATM line, they scream out at the movies, they seem possessed.  (At least in this crowded, merciless city.)  One person I'm thinking of is a beacon of steadiness:  Robert S. Mueller.

Until next week, stay cool, and act natural.






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Five Things That Make Life Better on July 27th 2018


Mmmm.  That feels so good.  Just a little to the left....

Oh, excuse me.  Trying to imagine that kind of great release of tension in my back, shoulders, and hamstrings.  Happy to have become better acquainted with my hamstrings in 2018.  (What was I waiting for?  An engraved invitation?)  I haven't had a massage in several months, but I wish you all a virtual massage.  Even deep breathing while listening to Colin Firth tell you a story is a vacay from the ordinary.*

I feel very fortunate indeed, all things considered.   I have children that I love madly, a partner who makes me feel happy and secure, and I still have medical insurance...  for now.  AND, our podcast is getting great attention!  All good!

Now to this week's list:

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1)  My prayer strings -- or good luck bracelets.  You've seen this picture of my wrist before.  The thinner mustard-colored string was tied around my wrist by a monk in a temple in Bangkok in March, 2017.  The three wider braids, connected with a knot were affixed by a nun outside Angkor Thom, a beautiful temple compound in Siem Reap, Cambodia, a week later.  An additional white prayer from Cambodia fell off sometime after March, 2018. 

We were told to keep the strings on until they naturally fell off.  One of us (cough) has done as instructed.  I am sheepishly admitting here that I am somewhat superstitious.  Has my life improved since receiving these touristy amulets?  My life definitely improved by visiting Southeast Asia, by meeting kind and gentle people.  By seeing the magnificent structures built in truly different aesthetics from western architecture.  By being a jillion miles from home.  By living in a simpler world, closer to nature.

I don't know how many tourists bother to keep their strings on after they've become frayed and grimy.   They carry for me that ridiculous threat of old-fashioned chain letters.  (Before the Internet, kids.)  If you break this chain, something horrible will happen to you.  Thus you see, I haven't removed them.  

I've worn them to dinner parties, book launches, to a funeral, to temple, and even to a white tie debutante ball.  The strings look so fragile and yet they seem permanent.  So, given my superstitious outlook, the good luck strings will accompany me to two black tie weddings this summer-fall.  #NoOneWillNotice  #NotTheCenterOfAttention

2.  A simple white washcloth.


I don't always want to use a hand towel when I'm washing my face, and I become unaccountably happy when I remember my stack of washcloths in my bathroom.  Sometimes I just use my hands to lather my cleanser, but I do feel cleaner with the abrasiveness of a simple, white, cotton, terry cloth square.  (And it  can reveal secrets your skin may be keeping from you.)

 Read to me, Colin

Read to me, Colin

3.  *Now that I finished A Sport and a Pastime, I've started listening to Mr. Darcy -- I mean Colin Firth -- read Graham Greene's The End of the Affair.  The novel was written in 1951, but I've never read it; only seen the movies adapted from it, most recently the Julianne Moore-Ralph Fiennes-Stephen Rea version directed by Neil Jordan in 1999. 

It starts with Colin stating inside my eardrum, "This is a diary of hate."  Just to me. 

I must say, I am ambivalent about books on tape.  I really like to turn the pages of a book in the pace and rhythm I direct.  I lose patience with some books on tape, or rather with how I ingest them.  If I only had a daily commute I think I'd feel differently, but I work at home.  And when I think of listening to a book on a walk, I end up sitting on a bench to finish a chapter.  But I had Audible credits!   And now Colin Firth is whispering into my ear, at least for the next 5 hours and 43 minutes.

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4.  Shame.  Am I serious?  I couldn't be more serious.  

Shame is the manifestation of our consciences reminding us we've done  something wrong.   We become uncomfortable for a reason.  The state of shame is correctable, but the blood rushing to our cheeks, or the sweat gathering on our foreheads (however our bodies process the spoken gaffe or the sloppy accident) is our superegos telling us we made a boo boo.  

Lately, I notice a shame deficit in this country.  People lie brazenly.  And then they lie about lying.  Things that should be mortifying -- say, the marketing of a videotape of your one night stand -- become one's claim to fame.  Do something else that my mother and I would consider unbearably coarse or rude, and you'll be rewarded with your own reality show.  That's how people get famous nowadays -- think of all the celebrities of the day and all the great things they've accomplished.  

If shame occupied the position it once had,  there'd be no Kardashians, no Paris Hiton, no Sean Spicer, no Lindsay Lohan, no "Real Housewives", or their Slovenian sister, Melania Trump.


5.  I'm not embarrassed to say I admire and revere Robert Mueller.  He's an honorable man and a patriot.  He is moving through the thicket of shameful behaviors and mortifyingly self-interested people with patience and discipline.  Godspeed to him.


Happy weekend!

Lisa xo




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Five Things That Make Life Better on July 20th 2018


1.  One of the pleasures of summer.  Fresh corn.  Grilled, boiled, or "Mexican street style".  Yum.  (I remember back to my teenaged years when I wore braces on my teeth.  Upper and lower.  I just couldn't risk eating corn on the cob -- I would be mortified afterwards by all the bits that stuck to my wires.  It was gross.  ("Gross" was my all-purpose reaction to just about everything then.) 

It is unfortunate that one's teeth must be straightened at the exact moment one becomes commandeered by self-consciousness and self-loathing.  Oh well.

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Fresh corn is among the things we can appreciate now.  



2.  A good book.


I am reading this beautifully written novel now.  I am reading it slowly, languorously, enjoying the words and the moods that James Salter wrote in 1967.  It's only 185 pages, and stopping and starting in the past week has been excruciating and wonderful.  I feel like I'm the last person in my world to have picked up this book.  Have you all read it?  Tell me what you thought.  

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3) I don't know about you, BUT I do feel so much better after my hair has been done -- colored, blown properly, or cut.  Today was one of those days.  It doesn't matter what I'm wearing, a good hair day is like being a VIP to myself.  It's like knowing I got an A on a paper, or received a love letter in the mail.  I guess it boils down to confidence.  Look, though I'm just a baby boomer, I feel like I grew up in the Dark Ages.  I forget to wear lipstick, and I no longer wear a slip under my dresses (TMI?) but I do like my hair to be polished.  


4.  A Secret Spot

Last weekend our dear friends Robert and Heidi told us to meet them at a magic show in front of a blue door on Canal Street in Chinatown.   I'm not a magicaholic, but I could be the person who gasps at sleight of hand tricks.  I adore Ricky Jay and Penn & Teller.  So at the precise strike of 7 bells, a person quietly opened the door to the assembled and motley group of 16 people standing outside and admitted us.  We walked down a steep flight of stairs into an old-fashioned parlor, with touches of Victoriana.  It was an immersive magic show for the 16 of us.  We followed the magician, Josh Jay, back and forth from room to room.  The intimacy was fantastic.  He was never more than a foot away from us.  The show is called "Six Impossible Things."  It was the  adventure that reminded me of the fun you can have in this city:  A private magic show.An unmarked restaurant with the best noodles.  A shop that is 8 square feet but stuffed with delights.  

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5)  And now, a man who needs no introduction.  He's the receptacle of all my hopes and dreams --(and he's not my exhibit!)  Ladies and gentlemen, here's Robert S. Mueller!


Until next week!  It's #AperolSpriterOClock!



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Five Things That Make Life Better On July 13th 2018



You may be living your best life and having your happiest summer since "Friends" went off the air.


Indeed, I hope you are.  But honestly, I can't say mine has made my top 10.  Boo hoo, Lisa!  Q:  What's the matter?  A:  Only a dystopian world at the moment that causes brain aches and some sleepless nights.  But in between there have been lovely days and fun nights and a couple of barbecues.  They are restorative.


Summer is in my top 10 of seasons, however.   Here are my TOP FIVE!

1.  Family.  Last week I saw all of my Exhibits (™)!  And they all saw one another.  (This is a big deal because one of them lives on the Other Coast.)  Then this week I saw Mummy B. three times.  


the original Tree

Our relationship has changed over the years of course, but I am grateful to have my mother this long.  She is a hoot.


2. I LOVE THE BEACH.  I LOVE IT.  I love to lie on it, fall asleep on it, walk on it, swim at it, relax on it, hang with friends on it, read alone on it, and I don't even mind pouring sand out of the pages of my book when I leave it.  So far (July 13) no beach for me yet, though I've driven near  one or two.  But August will bring some beach weekends, and I cannot wait!  In the meantime, there is a fine swimming pool I've had the pleasure of visiting, when the city has been at it's sticky-ickiest.


This will do!  Very nicely!  I hope you have a watering hole you can use when the weather is almost unbearable.


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It's salad season.  I ate a Cobb salad for lunch yesterday and a La Scala salad for dinner.  (At Joe Allen's in NYC).  It's hard to even consider hot food sometimes (aside from broiled freshly-caught fish) and I'm bullish on salad.  However, as longtime friends and former radio listeners all know, I don't like beets.  I am so omniverous that the beet thing is a little weird, I admit. But beets appear in so many salads.  And in so many pictures of salads.   I was unwittingly served a salad a few months ago that had -- I don't know what they're called -- pygmy yellow beets? tucked and tossed within it.  I thought they were potatoes at first and ate one or two.  Okay, they weren't terrible, but they weren't good potatoes either.  Anyway, it's nice to eat fresh and actual tasty vegetables in season.


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4.  I have always loved London from my first visit there at about 12 or thirteen to my last visit 3 years ago.  Loving England doesn't make the country feel less foreign, though.  It's not just the driving on the other side of the street or the accent.  It's not just the different vocabularies (lorry, boot, jumper = truck, trunk (of car), sweater).  We're different.  You see "The Crown" and you get it.  You watch the royal wedding and you get it.  But observing a quarter of a million Englishmen and women protest peacefully against the American president is something to behold.  I actually wish I were there.  If you are a fan of Mr. Trump's [you're probably not reading this blog] let me state my point of view:  it's the Non-Violent Expression of Ethics and Values that I appreciate.  He can dish it out, but he cannot ever take it.  


5.  All I can say is I hope Robert S. Mueller, III is having a good summer too.  He needs it and deserves it.  Don't forget your sunscreen, sir!





Five Things That Make Life Better on July 7th 2018

Funny how this Independence Day feels different from all other Independence Days.  Without sounding too dramatic, I think the 4th felt more "hol" than "holiday" because it fell in the middle of the week, without the embrace of a full weekend of merriment or the trappings of vacation.  Businesses in New York City were open, restaurants were open, Brooks Brothers was (were?) open. The sense of a shared day was only evident in the emptiness of the streets. People were observing the holiday by staying indoors in air conditioned rooms.

Even #ExhibitD, Henry the Dog wanted no part of yesterday's heat.

 Henry in his summer activity mode.

Henry in his summer activity mode.

Another thing:  I don't recall a time in my sentient adulthood when this country has felt less united.  Do you? I'm curious about your take on July 4th, 2018. But... onto the good stuff.

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1.  I love fried chicken.  I'm crazy about it. It might just be my Kryptonite.  This is a late-in-life change of affairs from the years -- decades --  when I could not resist a hamburger. One of my exhibits thinks that my love of this dish is borderline obsessive, and worrying.  But I'm not worried, because so far I am not even remotely tempted to fry chicken myself. When I start making it, spattering myself with hot oil, causing the smoke detector alarm to sound, filling the kitchen with the smell of grease -- then be concerned.  It's harmless for the time being, until I turn into a fried chicken, or marry a fried chicken.

(Some favorites:  Root & Bone, Hill Country, Blue Ribbon, Boka)

2.  Spelling Bee, my favorite word game in the New York Times.

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I like to play this game when I wake up.  It jump starts my brain and it's fun. It's difficult.  I won't consider myself done with Spelling Bee until I reach at least the "Amazing" level.  (The numbers change daily but here is an example of the rankings:


Ranks are based on a percentage of possible points in a puzzle. The minimum scores to reach each rank for today’s are:

  1. Beginner (0)

  2. Good Start (2)

  3. Moving Up (5)

  4. Good (9)

  5. Solid (16)

  6. Nice (27)

  7. Great (44)

  8. Amazing (55)

  9. Genius (76)

I was enjoying Spelling Bee in a private little bubble, until I discovered that my boyfriend's brother and sister-in-law play it too, reaching a level THAT IS NOT EVEN RECORDED ON THE OFFICIAL RANKINGS called Queen Bee, which is when one has found every word on the possible list.  Now I'm feeling competitive and defensive, a problematic combo.

3. I love bright colors.  Not exactly a breaking headline.  I had a black leather wallet recently, which I had to find by touch, if not sight inside a dark and turbulent shoulder bag.  As readers of this blog may recall, I lost that wallet in Seattle, my only consolation being that it was probably found by one of the many thousands of homeless people there and put to good use.   Here is my new wallet:

How could I ever lose this baby?  (Don't answer.) At least now you've all seen it, you'll recognize it in a taxi and return it to me.  #ThanksInAdvance

4.  You, my reader.  You make writing this (for me, very personal) blog rewarding.  I know it's been a hard year for us all and the reactions and responses tell me this is helpful for you.  Writing it has been helpful (for me) (who else?).

5.  You know him, you love him, you're rooting for him:  Robert S. Mueller.

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Stay cool!

Lisa xx



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Perhaps you read this blog as a respite.  Frankly, that is why I decided to write a weekly thingamajig: to lighten your load.  Also to lighten my load and to let you know a little bit more about me,  But some weeks make me wearier than others, and this one (so far) takes the cake.  (Do I say that regularly?  I have the feeling -- you don't have to tell me -- that I'm a broken record.)


We have a choice:  be felled by the news of the day or the hour, or toughen up.  I am not tough and I had no intention of turning this blog into a reflection on the politics of the moment.   I am actually attempting to go light and not collapse under the weight of all that is happening in Washington.  


It's Thursday afternoon around 4:40.  I just read that just a few minutes ago, a man walked into the newsroom of the Capital Gazette newspaper in Annapolis, Maryland and started shooting.

It's not enough that the press is under siege by the easily-wounded president who decries anything critical of his administration as "fake news"; it isn't enough that print journalists are the most poorly remunerated of those who practice this craft.  When the president declares the free press an "enemy of the people" [verbatim], the women and men who attempt to tell the truth about what is happening and why are endangered. 

I'm not saying all reporters are honest and honorable, but I'd say most of them are.  Every newspaper or magazine where I worked insisted on three sources for every who what where how when.  My editors were always devils' advocates, forcing me to prove every allegation I ever wrote.  (And I worked in features, not hard news.)  

The Capital Gazette has a staff of 55 employees.  Word is 5 of them are now dead because they made the mistake of choosing journalism.


This isn't politics I'm talking about.  This is decency and common sense.  This is understanding the will and needs of the majority of Americans and caring enough to try to provide for them. 

Good people don't want to  take revenge on history.  Good people don't want to undo; they want to do.   This isn't about which party is in power; it's about doing the right thing.  Thoughtful people use words to make their points, not their guns.

We need a place to start.

We need to feel safe.

We need to see consequences for the wrongdoers.

We have to treat adults with the same rules and conventions we use when we teach our young children about right and wrong.  


We must respectfully listen to one another.  We must apologize if we have hurt someone's feelings, especially if we did so unconsciously or obliviously.  We must choose our words carefully.  If angered, we should count to 5 or 10 in order to cool down before we reply.  

We should tell our loved ones how much they mean to us.  We should remember our friends who are hurting or ill and visit them if we can, and if not we should call them, so they know they're not alone.   We should eat our vegetables.  Try to spend half an hour a day LESS on our digital devices.  Unless we are waiting for urgent news or are a doctor on call, we ought to leave our phones alone during meals.  


Your friend,



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