Giant of the Senate????

For 48 chapters and 12 hours, my husband and I recently listened to Al Franken's new book published in May of 2017 entitled "Al Franken, Giant of the Senate."  His upbringing in St. Louis Park, Minnesota, also home to Thomas Friedman, Bob Dylan and a bunch of other luminaries.  His rise to fame as a comedian and writer on Saturday Night Live and his eventual decision to run for the US Senate.  It's a delightful recount of an interesting life peppered with Mr. Franken's hilarious commentary.

Of course in Mr. Franken's subtle understated tone, he was humorously putting himself in the category of past giants of the Senate like Mike Mansfield and Lyndon Johnson among others, but what he really wanted to do was to convey to you the incredible amount of time and energy and commitment it takes to be a senator of the US and why in fact he chose to become one.

It's not very often that a non-fiction subject can hold one's attention for this lengthy amount of time, but, in fact, for the most part Mr. Franken who narrated the audio book did do so.  He's so funny and chatty that you just are always waiting for the next laugh.  There was only one place at the end when I thought it was the conclusion and then he went on to the next chapter that I got a little anxious.

As far as how the book relates to today's horrible divisive atmosphere, it actually encourages people to be civil, but I'm skeptical about whether the book will do that or merely "strengthen his base."  I, for one am much more moderate than Mr. Franken, but I did get some good ideas about how to be a responsible citizen.

I was surprised at how bright he was.  I did not know he graduated from Harvard. I was impressed at his devotion to his constituency and his attention to their issues.  I could see why he would get frustrated at not being able to get more accomplished.  And I wanted to meet his wife, Franny, who has been a devoted and supportive and helpful companion for more than thirty years.

Some of the best parts of the book had to do with his first campaign when he originally lost the election and slid by with a very tiny margin after a mandatory recount reversed the results.  Another highlight was his chapter when he discusses his difficulty in filtering some of the jokes he really wanted to make.  I also found his relationship with President Obama interesting as well as his success in preventing AOL/Time Warner from becoming a part of the Comcast/NBC conglomerate.

I love politics so I enjoyed hearing about "the process" maybe more than others might, but Mr. Franken's book is definitely an entertaining way to get a civics lesson and I highly recommend reading it. 

California Country

 It’s been a while since I’ve been to LA.  Much like revisiting New York, the scene changes every time I return.

As always, it’s total sensory overload, but more than that, it’s a collective mindset that the LA way is the only way.

Everyone looks great even though the styles today are kind of schleppy.  Grungy haute courtier is the style.  Lots of skin, tasteful tattoos, leggings and off the shoulder blouses for the ladies and untucked shirts and tight jeans for the men.  Only the old people, a growing population who are rarely acknowledged, wear tailored slacks and skirts, blouses with sleeves or Ivy League shirts.  Regardless of one’s ethnic or gender background or political persuasion, everyone is stylish.  LGBT’s, hipsters, actors.  It doesn’t matter. They’re all magazine ready.  

Everyone likes to “pose.”  In front of Jeff Koons’ Michael Jackson at the Broad Museum.  In front of Frank Gehry’s Disney Hall.  At the beach.  Wherever. 

Dogs rule.  You can take them anywhere.  And the dogs are all good looking too.  Protocol is to stop and talk each time you see a couple or three of them on a leash.  It’s just not polite if you don’t comment on how cute they all are.  Actually protocol is to talk to all humans too.  It points out how all inclusive LA residents are.

Shopping is by Amazon.  Packages in all sizes clump together in the downtown high rises and other condominium complexes.

Though food trucks are still important, the restaurants featuring all kinds of poke are even more in vogue.   Accompanying poke and other lighter fare are cocktails with like Bloody Mary's with unusual ingredients like cucumber or bacon. 

As usual, the highways are like a scene in “La la land.”  And when you visit with anybody, it’s all about the highways you’re going to take to get to the next highway to get to the next highway to get to your destination.  “Take the 405 to the 110 and then to the 470.” Or something like that.

Of course everyone is on their cell phones.  You especially need the apps which can tell you how many minutes delay one has on each highway and then suggestions on alternate routes to go.

And one can expect other forms of delays like when they’re filming a commercial and you need to stop in your tracks until the scene is cut.

More and more the “Old Hollywood” shows up as a reminder of the days when Frank Sinatra and Humphrey Bogart reigned.  All those famous symbols look even more classic.  The Hollywood Bowl.  The Pantages Theater.  The Roosevelt Hotel.  The Beverly Hills mansions where all the movie stars used to live.

There are hundreds of venues for theater and nightclubs and other forms of entertainment like improv just for women or a film festival for Star Wars fanatics.  The larger than life billboards are ubiquitous and taut every new movie and televisions series that are on the cable and streaming networks.  Marvel characters, grizzly crime, dystopian topics.  Pick your flavor.

The bougainvillea and hibiscus flourish everywhere.  It’s what makes LA the most inviting.   Walk down even a somewhat seedy street and rich greenery embraces you.

What I find most interesting is the total acceptance of political correctness.  Everywhere you go the population is an amalgamation of black, brown and white and everyone seems happy and comfortable with each other, a belief that this state knows how to solve their problems and how to get along.

You have to be tough to live in a city of so many millions.  Just being on a highway takes guts and determination beyond the norm.  It’s like you’re playing a football game every day.  You’re always in offense and defense mode.

Returning to my hometown of Denver seemed a bit of a letdown.  The people aren’t as pretty and if they are, they don’t quite know how to show it off.  It just seems a bit boring after all the intense stimulation.   Our restaurant and entertainment ratio is much smaller.  We do have a plethora of pot places and soccer fields.

Hey.  It is a nice place to raise a family.

Bannon Babble

So we finally got a chance to see Steve Bannon live and in person (well almost in person) last Sunday night on Sixty Minutes.  Charlie Rose's interview was amazing.  He certainly pressed on the issues that all of us were concerned in hearing about, most particularly his response to Charlottesville and to David Duke, the paragon of racism.

What struck me most about Steve Bannon was his belief that he knew better than the rest of us what was good for the country and for the president.  For the life of me, I can't figure out why we should believe him.  He's just a guy who made a bit of money in hedge funds and then in film.  And oh yeah, he spent a year strategizing with the Trump campaign, and helping steer the ultimate victory.

I don't know.  If I were looking at a resume, that background would seem a bit serendipity.  But then my resume isn't so great either.

Mr. Bannon's personna does reflect Mr. Trump's philosophy about running a country.  He knows better because he knows better.  Well, he did convince enough people to win the election.

I sort of think that Mr. Trump has a bit of the medicine man in him.  He talks a good game, but do those elixirs really work?  For a while, but then everyone discovers the real truth.  Like Chris Christie said about Mr. Bannon, let him enjoy his fifteen minutes of fame.

I already don't think anything Mr. Bannon says is based on the good of the country.  It's based on his own good.  That's what happens when you don't know what home and hearth is and you live your entire life in transactions and then you only read the materials that back up your beliefs.  He needs a good wife, but then these days good wives are hard to find.

I'm Stressed

At my gym I work out next to two attractive seventy something gray haired ladies who are the best of friends.   They are known to hang together on the treadmill which they take verrrrry slowly, or to work the machines together taking turns doing their repetitions.  In between they chat with all the regulars and the trainers and frequently me.

I only know a little bit about their personal history.  One of them is traditionally married.  The other is not.

When I walked into the workout room the other day, the single lady was waiting for her friend and on the machine for quads.  For some reason we started chatting and she was saying she didn't know why, but for the last few days, she'd been feeling particularly stressed.  In my usual way, I empathized and blamed it on the constancy of the events that have been pummeling us daily since the election.  Just this week there was the Texas flood, the DACA crisis, the North Korean threat, the coming of Hurricane Irma, Trump's son testifying in a Senate committee for his meeting with the Russians during the campaign and the pathetic debut of Mrs. Clinton's book in which she blames everyone else other than herself for her defeat.  

I tell her I try to shut out the chaos with classical music and a resolve to only listen to the blabber for part of the day.

"Mmmmm," she said.  "I paint.  But maybe I ought to turn off MSNBC when I'm painting."  This seemed to cheer her up.

When her friend showed up right after our discussion, her friend asked her how she was feeling and she said she had been depressed, but now she was feeling better.  She had just decided to turn off MSNBC.

Melania's Shoes

This morning I was watching, as I do most Saturdays, Michael Smerconish on CNN.  This week he was trying to find a new angle on the week long depressing reports on the Texas floods. He began the show by talking about the President's and the First Lady's clothes and shoes.  Apparently Mr. Trump received criticism for wearing khakis to visit the flood site and Mrs. Trump was criticized for wearing seven inch spiky heels (I'm guessing the size.)

Mr. Smerconish dismissed Mr. Trump's dress noting that Presidents Obama and Bush wore khakis to their visits to their disaster visits of Sandy and Katrina. When it came to Mrs. Trump's heels, he just said in a very male fashion, "Who Cares?"

Actually I didn't see Mrs. Trump's heels this morning but I did see Mike Pence's wife Karen's approach to the dress of the day.  She was more casually dressed than I would have preferred.  She wore a blue silk short-sleeved tee outlined in black and indistinct nicely fitting jeans.  To be honest she's got a pretty nice figure.  I was a bit envious.

My less than expert commentary on the dress of both women is that they speak to who they are:  Melania always has to find a way to make a flashy statement even though she's trying really hard to be proper, and Karen in her "aw shucks" demeanor and her attitude of wanting to support her man, usually selects a look that says all I like want to do is get down to brass tacks and start helping. I'm as ordinary as you.

It is true that Mrs. Trump switched from her spiky heels and black pants and top and green combat jacket to jeans, tennies and a white shirt.  She probably could have worn one outfit and made it work.

So what would I wear if I were first or second lady?  First I'd consider the weather:  I know it's hot and humid.  Second, I'd think about the location and where I'd be photographed.   That would be walking on the tarmac to the plane and getting off the plane.  Third I'd think about my destinations once I got off the plane.  Fourth, I'd definitely want to be comfortable and not have to think about what I was wearing, and fifth, of course I'd want to look good.  As always, my clothes would have to be appropriate to my size, my stature, and my best assets.

Mrs. Trump definitely is good at using her height to accentuate the positive.  I credit her for that.  What would I change?   I'd make the heels the height of the ones she usually wears if she has to make a statement.  I see her in her red jeans, her white shirt, perhaps tucked in with a slimmer belt than she usually wears.  Maybe she could have worn a jean jacket at the start that she could take off if the weather became too warm.  I like the hat and pony tail, although an alternative might have been to not wear a hat and pull her hair back at the nape of neck.  She seems to have trouble going from harnessed appropriate to harnessed casual.

For Mrs. Pence, I'd wear jeans similar to the Not Your Daughter Jeans that are considered a regular fit rather than such a tight one or else some attractive khakis.  I'd wear a white tee shirt and over that a lightweight attractive blouse maybe in her blue of choice with sleeves rolled up.  For shoes, (she was wearing flats), I'd wear some attractive canvas shoes with flaps and no ties.  And I'd comb my hair or find some way to hold it in place.

In essence, I don't think either one of the women hit the mark.  Maybe they'll get better with time.  I'm pretty sure that Michelle Obama and Jill Biden would have known what to do.

Scrapple

In 1965, I spent a year teaching in the Washington, D.C. public school system.  For many reasons it  turned out to be pivotal in my life.  Having grown up in a lily white suburb of Chicago, it was my first time mingling with African American adults and children.

My "speech improvement"traveling program consisted of ten women, seven African American and three white women.  In addition, at each school I visited I would meet the resident speech teacher.  That person tended to be African American as well.

I was anxious to learn about the African American people and they turned out to be exceptional with fascinating stories.  One, the daughter of a mailman and a cleaning lady, went on to graduate school with me and then became CBS's first African American White House correspondent.  Another fellow speech teacher became a professional actress and I met up with her several years later when she was on tour with James Earl Jones for the play, The Great White Hope.

Anyway, my memory that I wish to share is about one day when many of us gathered in a cafeteria for a lunch of scrapple.  The women were anxious to introduce scrapple to me since I had mentioned to one of them that I had no idea what scrapple was.

It turns out that scrapple is some sort of cake made of innards that you mix together and fry.  Anything like this was foreign to me, although I do have to admit that my mother, a German, used to make creamed giblets.  I remember politely taking and bite or two and then reaching for the alternative choice of fare that had also been placed on the table, but I was proud of myself for trying something new that had always been a part of all of my associates' lives.

What I recall more was getting to know these smart, dynamic and dedicated women and hearing their stories.  Each one was unique and each one had a different view on life.  One was a strong advocate, one a materialist, one schmoozed with celebrities.  They were a great bunch of people and scrapple brought us all together to talk and visit and get to know each other.  Throughout the year the discussion would continue on in various forms, but it was our scrapple get-together that I remember most vividly.

In future blogs, I'm sure I'll have more to say about my year in D.C.  The point of the scrapple story is that neither my teaching associates nor myself had any uncomfortable feelings about one another even though we were from different backgrounds.  We were anxious to learn about each other and to share our differences.  We had open minds and yet we enjoyed sharing our personal stories.  Ah, if only that were true for the majority of our country.  It just seems so simple to me.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fascists

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fascists,

If I had a chance to meet with you, here are a few questions I'd like to ask you:

1)  What is your vision of the United States of America.

2)  Who should be an American citizen?

3)  How should the United States be governed? Who should be in charge?

4)  What should be done with all the multi-cultural people who do not fit into the white category?

5) Who are your heroes?  Who speaks for you? Why?

6) Explain clearly why you are opposed to the "elites," people who rely on past and present expert knowledge and opinions to help the US move forward?

7) How are you different from Isis? Or do you wish to be like Isis?

8) Do you really think you can go back in time?

9) Why do you like violence rather than talking?  

10)  What is the place of women in your philosophy?  You don't see many women in your movement.

The Grandkids

For some reason I volunteered for my husband and I to take care of our two adorable grandsons, ages six and nine for a week up at our mountain home.  With only two weeks to go before school starts again, we thought it would be fun for them to have a relaxing week without too many demands.

I'm not sure why I decided to do this.  When we took the kids to the rodeo, we were the only grandparents solely accompanying children who were without their parents.  I think I've always been a martyr.  It's just part of my DNA.

It's not that it hasn't been wonderful.  It has been.  First, it gave our son and daughter-in-law a needed rest from their twenty-four hour job of taking care of their offspring and simultaneously working for a living.  Second, it gave my husband a chance to show his grandkids his business interests, i.e. what it's like to be a capitalist, something that they had no idea their "Papi" did.  And third, we got to be with them and enjoy on a day to day basis what makes them tick.  We got camp stories, friend stories, Mom and Dad thoughts and especially theirs.  We struggled with helping our youngest who's having a bit of trouble learning how to ride a bike and watched in amazement the proprietary ability of our oldest grandson to watch over his brother.  We played corn hole, made a home movie and went miniature golfing.  And, the two of us, now well into our seventies, drank a lot of wine and slept better than average each night.

Their parents come up today and will probably be a bit frustrated that they watched too much television, played on iPads constantly, ate only ice cream and pizza and went to bed at ten o'clock each night.

On our final solo night together we watched "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul" about a family where the second oldest son (I forget his name---I think it's Greg) rebels against the restrictions of his mother who only wants him to read books, learn and behave.  I absolute relate to this but for some reason always give in to the trends of the day.  I can't get them to like classical music, read the volumes of "Wizard of Oz" and say the Dinosaur Museum was their favorite activity.  Their parents actually do better at exposing them to their own tastes: "Hamilton," jazz, and "Choose Your Own Adventure."

I'm a big believer that as a grandparent I am just there to love my grandchildren and to hope that once in a while they might like my old songs like "Kiss is Sweeter Than Wine," and my old favorite stories like "Thumbelina."  Mostly it's about "Angry Birds" and "Star Wars."  And that's OK by me.

I'm Right!

I'm an old debate teacher.  I got an "A" in debate in college and I went on to teach high school students debate and to oversee competitive state speech contests.

I specifically recall one of my advanced public speaking classes where we were studying debate.  This was in the sixties in a rural community and they chose the subject of abortion before the Roe Vs. Wade decision in 1973.  I'm surprised I didn't get fired for allowing them to debate the subject.

So here were four girls, two for the proposition (what later after Roe V. Wade passed came to be called Pro Choice) and two against the proposition (what later came to be called Pro Life.)

The girls were all friends but they were all seriously engaged in the issue.  They gathered all kinds of facts and information for their presentation and collected all kinds of materials from various sources.  Of course, we had discussed what were facts and what were good sources to find them.  They had card catalogues full of statistics based on news and magazine articles, and excerpts from books by experts on the subject.  Since this was before the internet, Wikipedia and other websites were not included.  Most of their information came from libraries or from personal stories.

The rural town in which the class took place was known for its large number of premature pregnancies.  Though I'm short on facts, I do recall that a lot of girls did drop out of high school when they got pregnant.  Here's my first debate fallacy.  I am not supplying accurate numbers.  My report is anecdotal.

Anyway, the day came and the girls made their presentations in what turned out to be a very emotional 45 minutes.  The pro choice people built up a case using statistics to show how many women had died from illegal abortions and how gruesome some of these stories of how they died had been. Afterwards one of the girls who was pro choice read a graphic story of a woman who had had an illegal abortion and died, and then she rested her case.  For the pro life side, their argument was primarily based on the question of when life begins and whether or not a woman can decide this question.  There were quotes from all kinds of religious leaders.  When the students voted on who won, those on the pro choice side got the most votes.  One of the women on the pro life side broke down and cried.  My feeling is that she was just so frustrated in her belief that she was right but hadn't been able to convince her audience with facts and statistics that she was right.

Though today's times are quite different, the arguments for who is right continues to go on.  Some people go for facts and statistics and logic and some people skirt all that in favor of emotions and gut feelings.

In the very mercurial times that face us today, it's frustrating that some of us are so filled with strong feelings that are based only on how we were raised and the experiences we've had and not on a thoughtful exchange of ideas based on good and sound information to help us make better informed decisions.

I'm for examining in detail facts and statistics and taking in to account my own experiences to make my decisions.  I think I'm right.  Why can't others see my point of view?????

Billionaires and the Common Folk

I live in a world of very wealthy people.  I myself am reasonably comfortable, but I'm an artist and I'm inclined to watch the wealthy from a distance and only occasionally do I interact with them.

I have nothing against wealthy people.  They are the backbone of my country in terms of providing the means for our citizens to have many of the perks that make America special:  beautiful cities, museums, football stadiums, fashion shows, movies.

I'm not really a pol either.  But I do like libraries, good roads, a police department that protects me, and schools that educate the future leaders of my country.

America has always been a mixture of business and government and I contend that neither the wealthy nor the not so wealthy have the upper hand on making our country run.

Currently though our top administrator seems to have more reverence for those who are wealthy.  They're the ones that make America great.

It is true that some successful businessmen are responsible for many of America's proudest achievements, but it is also true that many of them were ruthless personalities and many only had visions for creating more wealth for themselves.  Only a few were interested in the good for all.  That role in the past was left to religious institutions, intellectuals and women.

Though there are exceptions to the rule, I find most wealthy people to be standoffish, competitive, interested in their images and rarely warm and friendly.  I get this.  I know that if you show you are vulnerable in any way and don't keep a sense of mystery as my father always encouraged me to do, then your chances of bluffing yourself into the next rung are probably not as good.

My own view is that we ought to use all the talents of all our people.  The rich should definitely keep making as much money as they can.  Those who are good at teaching should teach.  Those who have athletic talent should play tennis, football, baseball or bowl.  Scientists should keep discovering, and inventors should keep finding new gadgets.

But when it comes to leading our country, the talents needed to do so becomes more complicated.  The skills to be in the hot seat go beyond being wealthy and they go beyond being ethical and they go beyond being smart.

For me, all I know is that I'm not happy with the stereotype of a wealthy person leading my country.  I want him/her to be more than just a dealmaker who values gold and mansions.

In the old days, the royals used to have a grip on their people who knew they would never be wealthy, but who could easily live through their rulers.  We can still see glimpses of this in countries who maintain their kings and queens, but most of these countries have moved on.  They realize that being wealthy is just one way to go.  It's not the only one.  We need a leader who respects our abilities and gives us options to validate them, not one who is just a cheerleader for a vision he/she believes can happen for everyone, no matter what their abilities or their circumstances.

We need a reality president, not a fake one.

Come on people, rise to the occasion and learn the difference!

Alternative Facts

Right now I am in the process of writing a biography about Mary Coyle Chase, the Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who wrote Harvey and who lived in Denver in the 1940's.  Mostly my sources at this point have been secondary sources.  I've looked to sources like Wikipedia and Encyclopedia.com.  They often quote newspaper and magazine articles based on interviews with the playwright.  I've also explored excerpts from books that have included discussions written about Mrs. Chase and that are also frequently an amalgamation of secondary sources, just like mine.

Take for example, her date of birth. Some say it was February 25, 1907.  Some say it was 1906.  Some say that the reason for the dispute has to do with the fact that by making the date one year later, she could be younger.   Truly the only way to solve the problem would be to view her birth certificate and I still wouldn't really know why there was a question unless I could ask one of her relatives and maybe they wouldn't know either.

Another example:  Mrs. Chase attended both the University of Colorado and the University of Denver.  Some sources say she went to the University of Colorado first; others say that she went to the University of Denver first.  I think that this conflict can be fixed fairly quickly, but still it's interesting that there is disparity.  It means someone who did the original research did not do their homework, or that the author who wrote the story or article lived somewhere else and couldn't tell the difference between the two universities.

Here's another example:  At one point Mrs. Chase wrote a screenplay called Sorority House.  Most sources agree that the film premiered in 1939 and that it was co-written by the then unknown future controversial blockbuster screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, a Colorado native. What they don't agree on is the origins of the screenplay.  One source says it was originally a short story called Chi House.  Several sources say that it was originally a play called Chi House.  Then the question becomes where was it originally produced and when.  Most agree that it was produced at the University of Denver's Civic Theater in 1935, but there are variations on that theme as well.

And finally, there are many views of Mrs. Chase's personality.  One of her friends, Caroline Bancroft, was a frequent companion of Mrs. Chase's.  They had many adventures and participated in a variety of pranks together, but there is no inkling so far in my research that she thought of Mrs. Chase as having any sense of "melancholy" in her demeanor, an observation made by others but not attributed to anyone in particular.

I guess what I'm saying is that some facts that are disputed are not as important as others, but some facts are important if one is to back up a theory.

As to my research, I want to get my facts as right as possible. As a former teacher, I always tried to teach my students the difference between fact and theory and the notion that if one was to have a theory, it would take hard facts to back it up.

I'm not sure our current president has that ability or desire.  He confuses his facts and his theories and seems not to care to back up his accusations or notions.  I will continue to abide by my rules and the ones I was taught all through my eighteen years of education.  And, I'm afraid, he will continue to have a different view.  What we have here is a crisis to communicate.

The Week

I'm sticking to the plan and making my second entry one week after the first.  Writers are always told that they need to select a time to write and stick with it.  Let's see how long I can make this last.

I am a political animal and admit that I have spent more than a reasonable amount of time this week glued to my news programs.  What's with Donald Trump Junior?  Are we going to have a new Affordable Care Act?  Though I'm your classic educated liberal, I'm trying to figure out why the country is so split on whether or not this is a big deal.

As an ordinary person who grew up in the Chicago suburbs, my life lessons come mostly from the successes and failures in circles that are less rarified than those in either the ivory tower of Donald Trump or the Eastern elites.

One of those life experiences occurred more than six decades ago when I was a student at my high school of more than four thousand students.  In my social club were many girls who were far prettier and wealthier than I was, but because members thought I knew more people, they decided that I should be their candidate for homecoming queen.  Surprisingly I made it into the final five.  On the day when the queen and the court was announced, we gathered in the gym.  For some reason I felt that I would win, but alas there I stood with the other losing candidate as the queen and her attendants were declared.  A friend of mine who happened to be the president of the student council was incensed.  He was sure the election "was fixed."  Through the years I've gone back to muse about why I lost.  I remember being mad at one of the members of my club for not coming to school the day the vote was taken.  I'm told I lost by only a few votes.  In reality I came to believe it was my own fault that I lost.  I didn't "schmooze."  I was too opinionated.  I wasn't always positive and upbeat.  I didn't cultivate a strong "base" of friends who could spread the word about why I should be the queen.  I must admit this pattern still exists sixty years later.  I am who I am.

Since then I've come to believe that there are many ways to "get to the top" and though it's not how I would do things, Donald Trump seems to have convinced enough people that regardless of his ethics, his tactics and his values, he is "the man."  Look.  I'm from Denver and we've had our share of medicine men in our history.

At a time when one can long for a president with admiring characteristics like integrity and intellect, we can only blame ourselves for own naivete and inability to convince others that we are better than that.

I am one of millions and probably can't make that much of a difference but to say that I can't do more would be to give up.  Just because I lost my bid for homecoming queen doesn't mean I stopped wanting to be better.  Even in my old age I still keep trying.  As my blog goes on, maybe I'll be able to point to some of my better moments as examples of how all of us must keep trying to make things better.

SOMEWHAT FAIR AND BALANCED

This is it.  My final blog site!  Good bye to all my others:  The Last Act, Caregiver Mimi, Eldercare Diaries, Teaching for a Living, Citizen Mimi, Mimi's Business Blog and the original Libra File.

It's time to bring all those thoughts and experiences into one focus and weigh in on life from Mimi's point of view!

In some ways life has been conventional for me and in others it's been totally "out of the box."  Hey I'm a Libra and I like balance.

I've come to the conclusion that my Libra qualities and tendencies are my sustaining contribution.  And I wish to share this with my readers.  Unlike many others, I'm able to look at both sides of the story.  I leave it to others to take a stand.  I admire those who are more passionate about their beliefs, but that's not my strength.  I'm always asking why.  Why do evil people think the way they do?  Why can't everyone see what is just and what is unfair?  Why do people have so much trouble facing the truth?  And why do many wish not to confront reality?

The older I get (and I'm getting up there), the more I realize how different we all are, how much nature and nurture intertwine, and how difficult but not impossible it is to improve both our personal lives and those of others.

To be honest, if we were all "goody two shoes" like me, the world would be very boring.  I'm glad there's so much diversity.  I'm trying really hard to adjust to all those who like tattoos, dystopian books and movies, ordering clothes with Stitch Fix, and accepting all kinds of couples and singles for friends.

It's my goal to weigh in at least weekly on some aspect of today's culture.  I look forward to hearing your comments and to a long, lasting relationship with the readers of this blog that I hope will expand and expand.