Just Watch Harvey

Just Watch Harvey

by Mimi Pockross

On March 2, 1970, beloved actress Helen Hayes appeared on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson to plug the revival of the play Harvey in which she and actor Jimmy Stewart were starring on Broadway.  The play had been introduced in 1944, enjoyed a record run, and had gone on to become the iconic and highly successful 1950 film in which Mr. Stewart also starred and of which snippets can still be regularly seen in more recent films like Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Field of Dreams, on television shows like The Simpsons, and now on YouTube.

During the interview Ms. Hayes mentioned that Harvey was a fantasy.  Said Ms. Hayes to Mr. Carson: “I believe going to see Harvey is more effective in getting children off marijuana than are the police. If you get your own sweet illusion and hold it to your heart," she said, "you don’t need outside help.”

Mrs. Chase wrote fourteen plays, three screenplays and two children’s books and in all of her works emphasized the need for imagination to counter the obstacles and fears we all face in the world as a means of remaining sane. A fierce proponent of children’s theater, the playwright Mary Coyle Chase espoused her views from Denver, Colorado where she lived all her life. 

Harvey is the story of an imaginary six foot one-half inch rabbit and his slightly tipsy middle-aged companion, Elwood P. Dowd.  Elwood’s sister wants to put him away in a sanitarium so that she can get on with her life.  The irony is that her sanity becomes a question.   Said a critic of the time during which Harvey was produced,  “(Harvey is) as much a satire of the world we have made as it is a defense of those who prefer madness to what by mere popular vote has come to be accepted as sanity.”

Mrs. Chase was well aware of the interest in mental health during the time that Harvey was written in the early 1940’s.   Sigmund Freud had recently become of interest and thus there was a focus on psychiatry.  Harvey is taken to Chumley’s Rest where treatments of hydrotherapy and a shot called Formula 977 similar to the notion of a lobotomy are considered.

Mary Chase herself struggled with the balance between illusion and reality.  She had grown up hearing Irish folk tales full of fantasy and had found solace in hearing them.  She would continue to offer imagination as a panacea for all the world’s ills.  She dwelled on creating scenarios in which laughter, love and beauty would result.

Perhaps as we deal with the opioid crisis today, we should suggest that in all the rehabilitation centers the residents “Watch Harvey.”

Mimi Pockross is currently writing a book about Mary Coyle Chase and Harvey and lives in Denver, Colorado.

The Whole Gold Star Mess and Harvey Weinstein

What a week for sensational television.  Is America today any worse than the time when all the pulp magazines and muckrakers prevailed?  With the exception of the fact that we've never had a president who acts like the readers rather than rising above their sometimes petty views, probably life is as it always has been: full of events and individuals who capture our attention with their stories, particularly the sensational ones.

I was particularly captivated by two emotional interviews that I watched this week.

The first was an interview by Ari Melber on MSNBC's "The Beat" with the parents of a soldier who was recently killed in one of the areas where we're fighting.  It was heart rendering to watch the grief they were feeling.  It was so raw and so real.  It made you forget politics for a moment and just feel sad.

The second interview was conducted by Hari Sreenivasa on Public Broadcasting with a woman who had been accosted by Harvey Weinstein.  Like the soldier's parents, she was somewhat reluctant to come forth with her story but she felt she needed to do so once others were telling their stories.  She too was so real and I felt her pain so clearly.

The two incidents humbled me.  I tend to be tough and punitive and unfeeling.  Regardless of how one feels about the kerfuffle over the representative who spoke out for the soldier who was recently killed in Niger and regardless of how one feels about Harvey Weinstein's power over women and men's power over women in general, when I see real people just living their lives needing to tell us to be human, it makes me take a step back from all the news we hear today.  It's probably always gone on, but right now, I'm particularly struck by the news of this week.    

Puerto Rico, Trump and My Mother

A couple of mornings ago President Trump threatened to take federal responders and National Guard units out of Puerto Rico because (I am paraphrasing) they are not holding up their part of the bargain.  In fact he appears to be punishing Puerto Rico for not running a perfect union.

I was raised by an authoritarian mother and I'm wondering if his allegedly authoritarian father instilled a similar trait that I had to learn to temper, "You do it my way or else."

One time when I was a young mother in an upscale suburb, several of us moms were helping put on a theatrical presentation.  I yelled at the kids to get "in line" and stop fiddling around.  The other moms were shocked that I didn't handle the kids in a more calm, nurturing manner.  They, it seems, had been raised by moms who were more supportive, more gentle, more understanding.  After that incident, I forced myself to work on being a more empathetic mom.  To this day, I still have trouble and I still have to work at it.  Whether it's gender issues, poverty issues, relationship issues, I am still more likely to blame the other if she doesn't live up to what I perceive to be the "right way" which is my way.

Well, I'm just a normal citizen and President Trump is the President of the United States.  He's supposed to represent what Americans perceive as a grounded person, someone who has had his battles but has come to be a person that is honorable and a role model we all admire.  Is this too idealistic to think that this is the bar for America?  After all, presidents in the past have had their flaws as well. Particularly Richard Nixon's troubled childhood created many dark demons that were the reason he sought to become more powerful. Of course, eventually Americans rejected him but it took an awfully long time.

We all try to learn from our mistakes, but the President of the United States must be better than the rest of us, and, if he's not, we are all in for some terrible times.

Rx: America

Yesterday I learned that a friend's twenty-nine year old grandson committed suicide.

This sad news piggy backed on the horrendous massacre of fifty-eight people in Las Vegas this week, and though, not the same as my friend's grandson's suicide, made me ask myself WHY?  Why is it that so many people today are lashing out by either killing themselves or others?

Former US Representative, now University of Michigan professor Harold Ford said on MSNBC's Morning Joe when analyzing the Las Vegas killings, that he believes we are having a public health crisis.  Something is taking place in society that is making masses of numbers of people "sick."  I prefer this analysis to coming up with all sorts of new gun legislation or pouring billions of dollars into mental health programs or providing revenue to address the opiod crisis.  This country has a serious problem that is affecting exorbitant numbers of the population and it can't be solved by stopping up holes to keep the water from pouring through.  We need a civil engineering project for our country that seriously addresses the inordinate amount of self destruction taking place.

I wish I were smart enough to come up with a comprehensive solution.  In my modest way I've thought that requiring everyone to take on the responsibility of citizenship such as the public service requirement that Israel requires for their eighteen year olds or that the UK "Gap" law requires of their citizens might result in an understanding and create a sense of pride in why we are Americans. It used to be the public education system provided an avenue for that identity.  We all said the pledge each day, studied the constitution, believed in the same history of our country.  That no longer is in play because so many people have their own conflicting ideas on how to educate our youngsters.

We are all seeking to be part of some sort of a community today.  People are anxious to be members of all kinds of group that reaffirm their beliefs and help them bond together.  Whether, it is joining the NRA or Planned Parenthood, Moveon.org or the KKK, everyone wants to belong some place.  It used to be that our family and our home town bound us together, but the definition of family today may not be the traditional mom and dad and two kids all of the same race.  And the town today may just be a sprawling development of homes with no Main Street where everybody knows your name.

We need something that will unite us rather than divide us, some thing that gives us a reason to be American.  I'm not against technology or big concerts or eating out every night or watching dystopian movies.  I guess that's some sort of progress.

What I object to is that we seem to have lost the core principles of what makes our country great, a collective idea of what it means to be an American.  To me being an American means creating laws that allow all the citizens of the country the opportunity to have a productive life and that gives them the tools to have that productive life and maybe even sets the bar for what is a productive life.  It means drawing on our past history to do this to better ourselves where we have made mistakes.  It means accepting that we can't go back to those idyllic Eisenhower years when I grew up, but it also means that those who weren't lucky enough to grow up that way may in the future have a chance to do so as well as those who have already been so fortunate.  It means being able to be all kinds of people with all kinds of professions.  We don't all have to be rich or famous or pious or edgy.  But we all need to be appreciative that our country offers this opportunity to be free to be you and me.  I always think of Henry Drummond (the fictitious version of the lawyer Clarence Darrow) who says in the play "Inherit the Wind," about the Scopes Monkey trial on evolution, something to the effect of, "Mister, you can have your new airplanes, but the sky will lose their wonder and the air will smell of gasoline."

We all need to move forward and really, right now especially it means, we all need to actively work towards this goal.  The public health crisis is imminent.  And we better find the right medicine.

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?????