Monthly Archives: July 2009

On my mind (with apologies to A.M. Rosenthal)

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No one ever trusted politicians.  Even our Founding Fathers flung the muck around to win an election.  Many of them did not in their personal lives live up to the high ideals of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitutions which they so lovingly drafted.  So, even in hoary (or whore-y) times, you could tell most politicians were lying because their lips were moving.

In the last 30 years (which is roughly equivalent to my adult memory), the clergy have disappointed me mightily in big and small ways.  First, Bernard Bergman and the nursing home scandal.  He dared to wear an outward sign of piety as he sat accused of heinous acts against other human beings.  Then the priests who abused children, making a mockery of the cross that they wore and the robes they donned. Then the Taliban clerics destroying cultures and killing people in the name of their haywire fundamentalism.

Even with all of this, I assume that people start out dealing with each other in good faith and with decency.  (Yes, I am a schmuck.)

So, why am I on a rant? The straw that broke the camel’s back: New Jersey.  This is not some small scandal.  Money laundering, trafficking in human organs, influence peddling and stealing from the  public coffers across many cities and communities.  Not just any time.   IN THESE TIMES WHEN WE NEED OUR POLITICIANS AND CLERGY TO LEAD US OUT OF THE BIGGEST FINANCIAL AND SOCIAL MELTDOWNS SINCE THE GREAT DEPRESSION.

I want to yell at each of those arrested in this New Jersey scandal who as politicians or rabbis enjoyed our collective trust and faith: “Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?” (to quote Joseph Welch, a lawyer at Hale & Dorr who represented the Army at the 1950’s McCarthy hearings)

WHERE IS THE OUTRAGE!!

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I seemed to have misplaced . . . .

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I looked in the mirror in the mirror just now and I feel as if I misplaced a decade somewhere.  Maybe it is in the same place where my mind has been waiting patiently to be found.  My assistant has been helping try to find my mind for eight or so years now.

I don’t pine for a lost youth.  My adult years have been great.  People who say college are the best years are NUTS.  Life gets better, more textured, more nuanced and fuller with age.

I do pine for my supple skin (vanity purposes only) and limber muscles (to keep up with my son) of my early thirties.  I am trying to be reasonble even with that — I’m not asking for early twenties.  I’ll take late thirties even, as long as there are a few extra memory cells thrown in.

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Sunday night dinner chez nous

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When we are not subverting nature, the social fabric of this country and the Word of G-d, my partner and I have (together with our son) have my sister, my brother-in-law and my dad over for Sunday night dinner.  Sometimes, my cousin joins us and, in the non-summer months, my partner’s father comes, too.  (Both our mothers are now of blessed memory.)

My brother-in-law and my son look at books that contain facts about lots of different things in the ways that big boys and little boys do.  So far, not subversive.  But wait, they are reading about pre-historic animals and their presently existing descendants, if any.  Ok, evolution and not creationism or intelligent design (has anyone holding the latter view ever looked at these scary ugly beasts?) Check the subversive box.

We gather around the table for dinner.  A summertime fare.  No chilled white wine from the Napa Valley.  So, ok so far. Wait, watercress, roasted pine nuts and pasta in the pasta salad.  Effete eastern liberals.  My dad and partner have camomille tea.  AAAAArgh. Check another subversive box.

We talk about world events.  Concerned citizens.  Good sign.  OH, NO, we are talking about health care and end of life care and how not every test is necessary and, even under orthodox doctrine, a procedure can be rejected if it prolongs the function of an organ but not the functioning of the person.  Crazy liberals using orthodoxy against those who would preserve life at all costs (except when these same people condone capital punishment).  Oooh, looking like a strike out, but since we caught the “pro-life; pro-death penalty” group in its own hypocrisy, let’s call that a foul tip. No check in the subversive box.

It is 7:45pm and time for our son to have a bath, read a story and go to bed and for me to do the dishes.  Sounds a little Cleaver-like.  We all hug and kiss at the door and our son yells, “family hug!” so three generations huddle together in a big hug, squeeze and many kisses.  Uh, oh, hippie commune.  Strike three. Big check in the subversive box.

Guess we’ve clearly drank the Obama kool aid.  It tastes good, so I think I’ll get more.  And for the record, my partner and I have had Saturday night dates since our son was a 1 year-old (he is 7 now). So, if POTUS and FLOTUS need some date night ideas, they should feel free to have their staff members ask us.

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Thought for today July 26, 2009: Why newspapers must survive

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The 24 hour news REcycle needs information to feed the machine it created.  If there is no news, then the machine requires that the hosts “dig deeper” to create news or to raise ancillary issues to the level of important news.  Michael Jackson and Jon and Kate are not as important as (although they are very important to those who love them) news items as are the recent North Korean alleged shipment of arms to Myanmar, the election issues in Iran, the health care bill, the economy and about ten other issues that have fallen into the news black hole.

True, the newspapers are not necessarily heroic purveyors of important information  — they were complacent about the Iraq war.

But the pressures of a 24-hour newsday does not encourage in-depth journalism.  Just because a headline ran over cable the night before doesn’t mean that the news is stale the next day.  Headlines do not contain all of the information one needs to know.  News is not like an iPod or a Nintendo game — good until the next version comes out.  A news story evolves as people and movements weigh in and complicate the issues.

I prefer newspapers.  I prefer articles that have taken a week in creation.  They are more informative, more textured and better considered than the regurgitation of the same pat phrases heard on television journalism. But they are not gospel.  So, one needs to read many sources, including some representing the opposite side of one’s general political leanings.

If independent newspapers become obsolete, the free flow of information will be drastically curtailed in our society and that is a threat to our freedoms and liberty.  And if it happens, I will get my news from Jon Stewart.

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My sister, my hero

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My sister is a highly respected medical doctor. More than that, she is a healer. No, she doesn’t perform magic; she can’t make stricken people walk.

She is a healer because she cares. She talks to families and doesn’t leave the hospital until everyone is stable or under control. She can’t prevent bad things from happening if those bad things are beyond the skills of doctors and death ultimately beats each of us.  But she calms anxiety, she speaks softly and tenderly and she instills confidence — for the patient and the family. That’s why I say she is a healer. Regardless of the outcome.

I have been out with her at dinner or the gym, when she has run back to the hospital because the family of a patient arrived and she really wanted to talk with them or when, sadly, a patient she was following took a bad turn.

In this whole health care debate, I think all we need are more doctors like my sister who choose to be attendings at hospitals and not boutique salons for the rich and famous.

My sister is my hero.  Not because she is my big sister.  Because she is a caring doctor who heals strangers.

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A NYC Triathlon

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I get the running and the biking in NYC, but the swimming part of the triathlon?_Device Memory_home_user_pictures_IMG00023 Especially when swimming involves the Hudson River.  I had to take a picture.  There is primordial ooze in there.  Does everyone who does this event need a tetanus shot?  Will one emerge transmorphed into the Swamp Thing?  Every one is worried about Swine Flu.  I am worried about stirring up the unknown waters of the Hudson River.  This color of green is not eco-friendly.  But, I am a cynical New Yorker.

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My college friends; my sisters

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I have been thinking about my college friends a lot lately.  Most of us have known each other since 1981.  Email has kept us current — sometimes to the minute — in each other’s lives.  We have all had to lean hard on one another and, in turn, be the supporting ones.  We laugh, we cry, we built a website (www.ifsarahcanbevp.com) and had t-shirts made celebrating our friendships.

For many years, I was dealing with internal demons, coming out of the closet and building a career.  I missed fun times, hard times, some weddings, bridal showers and a few births.  About 12 years ago, my mom got sick again.  I went through a transformation of sorts and recalibrated what mattered to me.  I reached out to my college friends, started to be more present in their lives (cyberly) and they embraced me as if the past was past and only the now mattered.  These are special women with special gifts of friendship.  When my mother died, I looked around the chapel and some had schlepped to come.  The next weekend, all were converging on NY as a planned reunion.  They all came over that next Saturday and sat in my home, just being there.  My mother was dead and my friends by their presence strengthened me.  I don’t know that I talked much, but they did and the chatter was comforting and their presence a gift.

These are friends of a lifetime.  Individually, they are fabulous and together they are a force of nature.  I love you all.

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The Upside of the Downturn

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It’s Saturday, July 2007, I am on the phone with clients and at my computer on a Saturday morning, trying to close a deal by Monday or Tuesday.

It’s Saturday, July 2009.  For the last two hours I have been lying in bed next to my son watching cartoons.  More TV time than he gets in two weeks, but it’s the summer and he had a few emotional days at camp (hormones and growth spurts).  Cartoons are violent and weird, but those two hours hugging my child and tickling him during commercials were a little bit of heaven.

There is an upside to this downturn, as long as I can afford the apartment and the TV. Do you think that a yurt in Central Park can have wifi?

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Spitting is a gross habit

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My life partner wants me to write a post about public spitting.  Here is what she emailed to me:

“It’s out of control.  All ages, all races, all demographics and all neighborhoods.  So, what does it mean? Who knows? What’s responsible? Hard to tell. How can it be stopped? An idea –  Public health campaign?  If we could get one tenth of the publicity that swine flu got (and is continuing to get) we could wipe this out in no time.  How about a celebrity campaign piece?  The possibilities are endless…..”

Now, we were not so much alike 10 years ago when our relationship started.  In fact, she would be appalled at some of my posts because “people from good families” don’t write such things.  And look at her now.  That’s my girl!!

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