Monthly Archives: December 2012

The Only Way to Heal is to DO SOMETHING!!!

I got an email from David Axelrod this evening, which I thought was very nice. He addressed me as Cindy so I assume we’re kind of chummy. He seems like a good guy so I decided to write him back:

Dear David Axelrod,

I was so proud of the way our President interacted with the bereaved of Newtown. (I want to say my President, but that would be petty politics and it’s more important that we are united as Americans because of this tragedy.) Our president was the consoling leader we all needed to hear. He spoke as a leader, but also as a father and a human. His sincerity reached my heart.
The killer certainly was bi-partisan in his actions. He didn’t stop to ask each child, “Are you a Republican? Are you a Democrat?” No, he didn’t discriminate at all. He killed innocent adults,  and he killed children who were so young that their smiles were filled with missing teeth. They will never grow up to have them.
The sense of loss lingers over all of us.
Now, I hope we can create change. Having 9 guns in a household, seems excessive. Having automatic weapons seems overkill–truly. It’s not only gun control. As the sibling of a mentally ill man, there were times we feared for our lives, and could not legally get him hospitalized. He was out there, on the streets, a walking time bomb. We were helpless and we were afraid–sometimes for our lives; sometimes for strangers’. And what about the increasing violence in video games and movies? Death becomes a game, and the winner is the one with the most kills. Or the heroines or heroes in movies take lives indiscriminately. There is no moral questions asked. Does these breed a killer society?

Can we make change, sir?
I hope so.

And I wish you a happy holiday, as well.

A National Tragedy

I am sitting in my car. It’s cold and I need to go into the grocery store because I’m so busy I shouldn’t be wasting time. But President Obama has just finished addressing the nation about the senseless shooting in Connecticut. He was so choked up he had to pause before he could go on speaking.

The news commentators, usually so slickly professional, are all over the place trying to make sense of this tragedy. I can hear their confusion, their horror. They’re even talking about it—how they’re having difficulty separating themselves from the fact that innocent kindergarteners will not have Christmas this year. Will not grow up. Will not get married. These babes went off to school today ten days before Christmas, probably worrying if Santa would be bringing their special gift. And they were shot to death for no reason.

My cell phone rings. It’s my daughter, wanting to talk about the shooting. “I thought Portland was bad the other night,” she says. “A shooting in a mall. This is so much worse. Now, I want to just get all the family together, go home and lock the doors.”

Another call comes in. It’s my daughter-in-law. She wants to talk about the killings too. I’m glad they’ve called. We need this: to talk to each other, to touch base. When 911 happened, we all lived close and could get together. Now, we’re spread over the country, but at least, we can talk.

“I feel like it is 911—that it’s not just another shooting spree. This feels like a national tragedy,” I say to both women. Both say they hope that the tragedy will finally create change in gun laws. “I hope so,” I say.

When I disconnect, I sit for a moment, staring out the windshield. Then I turn off the engine and open the car door. I will go into the store now, but I can’t remember what I thought I needed.

A Nice Cozy Dinner


Here’s a new one. We were getting ready to sit down for dinner (no, I do cook so that’s not what’s new) when my husband started setting up the laptop. It’s a new laptop, which does whirlies and all kinds of things I am afraid to think about.

We had to get all new computers last month.Why? you ask. Because my husband bought the newest iPhones and had them hooked up at Verizon. Only problem—our computers were so old they were incompatible with the new phones. (Which sort of reminds me of our marriage in some ways.) That meant we couldn’t transfer data or sync our phones, let alone our lives. In any case, we now have state-of-the art computers if not state-of-the-art brains.

Getting back to dinner: my husband has always been good about being busy elsewhere when I’m about ready to dish up. I’ve tried all kinds of measures to prevent this, but I finally hit pay dirt when I gave up. I like to eat my food hot and fresh so if I announced that dinner was on the table and he didn’t come, I began to eat without him. It took a while, 40 years or so, but he often shows up on time, now.

So there he was, walking into the kitchen just as I was taking the salmon out of the oven.

“There’s this new thing on the computer, Cindy,” he said. “U Tube. You can look up people and find their music.”

“Really?” I said, trying to be kind. What I was thinking was, “REALLY? Welcome to the 21st century!”

I spooned the steamed broccoli onto the plate next to the salmon. We were on our way to Chicago the next day so who knew when we’d get a healthy meal for a while.

Next thing I know, we’re eating with Sammy Davis, Jr. First, he’s tap dancing on my counter top. Then Dean Martin croons through most of the meal until Sammy comes on with his African American Jewish shtick. I truly miss those guys, and Frank, too. But I’m on a diet and when I eat, it’s the food I want to concentrate on.

Now that my husband has found out about this newfangled invention called UTube, can Facebook be far behind? It goes to show that you CAN teach an old dog new tricks!