The View from the Hermitage, Day 30

Thirty days. One month. At least it has not been a lost month such as the one older son said was discussed in the President's meltdown yesterday. Older son said that one of the two video presentations (I forget which one, but then the cat had me up at 4:18 this morning, and it showed on the cognitive front) basically ignored the period from February 6 to March 2. When a reporter mentioned this, the President did not take it well.

And the President says that he holds all authority. The President who said he could not force Republican governors to shut their states down now says he can force the other governors to re-open theirs. The President has shown in the past that he is not at all familiar with the main body of the Constitution, so why should he be familiar with the amendments, one of which gives all powers not assigned to the federal government to state governments. Someone must have told him about the second amendment since he has bestowed his seal of approval on that one. It doesn't sound as if he knows any of the other ones. Freedom of the press? Ha! I guess if he doesn't know the first amendment it's too much to think he's familiar with the tenth.

So do we have a president or a dictator? And who has the responsibility of pointing out to him that a president is not an autocrat? Congress? There don't seem to be too many Republican senators with the testicles to explain the facts of life to him. The judiciary? He's packed the Supreme Court to his liking, though perhaps one of Bush 43's appointees has some stones. If we had finished our devolution into a banana republic, I'd suggest a military coup might be in the works, but we haven't fallen that far. Yet, as younger son likes to respond to such thoughts.

I'm a bit concerned that dwelling on the President's performance yesterday shows that I have become totally numb to what is going on with the virus itself. Is it wrong that today I have not been concerned about what health care workers, several of whom I know personally, are up against? I have even had to remind myself to be angry today, angry about the late preparation, the missed opportunities, the chaos in which we find ourselves. I'd like to blame the day's starting too early, but that would be taking the easy way out.  I hope that tomorrow I will again feel something, anything?

And my never assigning a surname to "the President" is because "he who shall not be named" seemed a bit awkward to work into the writing.

What Goes Around

I don't like being in crowds; I never have. And if the crowd starts moving, making me move with it, I pretty much suffer a panic attack. That's why I deliberately avoid situations in which that might happen. If I have to be in a moving crowd, leaving a sporting event for example, I stay as close as possible to the person I'm with, usually the husband.

But by deliberately avoiding large crowds, I often find myself not going to events I'd like to, or that I think I ought to. An example is the Women's March the day after the 2017 Presidential inauguration. I really wanted to be there. I really did. At the same time, I found the thought of the crown absolutely terrifying. Even the crowds at the local event seemed daunting. I asked two dear friends who were going to the event in D.C., one from here and one from afar, to represent me, to be there in spirit for me. Knowing how I feel about crowds, they both agreed.

This past weekend saw Families Belong Together rallies held nationwide in protest of the current administration's program of separating immigrant children and parents. While I did not even consider trying to get to the national rally in Washington, D.C., I hoped that the local rally might be manageable in size, and decided to give it a try. What I posted on my Facebook page pretty well describes my motivation.

Going to the Families Belong Together rally today. I normally avoid crowds, but we no longer live in normal times.

The same friends who represented me at last year's Women's March offered support and guidance. Stay to the sides of the crowd. Feel free to step back out of the crowd. Stay close to the husband. And my local friend asked for a ride to the rally, giving me a second person to whom I could turn.

I wanted to make some sort of poster to take along, but not enough to make a special trip into town when I discovered the sheets of foam board I thought were in my studio closet weren't actually there. It was evening by then, and the rally announcement had said there would be poster-making supplies on site. My friend, on the other hand, was prepared and had a great sign.

We lessened the distance we had to walk by using my temporary disability parking tag. As we walked toward the rally, both the husband and friend noted that there were places I could sit so as not to overdo my still-healing knee (that weekend, the knee replacement was 10 weeks old). Next time, I'll listen to them and/or bring my own chair. My knee was extra-swollen and awkward for the rest of the day.

We ended up, not intentionally, at the front of the small area in which the speakers made their remarks. If you know me and if the video link works, you can see me here at the beginning and end of the report. The end is a longer shot than the beginning. If you don't know the husband, he's the gentleman to my right. He is also the gentleman shown "up front" in the photo at the start of this post.

The crowd was not at all bad; I had nothing resembling a panic attack. I didn't experience any real anxiety, though by the end I knew I had overdone it as far as my new knee was concerned. It was a good event; I am extremely glad that I decided to give it a go.

The rally was this past Saturday. Yesterday, I went to one of the quilting chapters to which I belong and at which I am one of the younger members. Not more than a couple minutes after I got there, one of the older members (I'm guessing she's in her late 70's) said she had to talk to me and took me aside, away from the tables at which people were sitting. I, of course, started thinking, "Oh crap, what did I do wrong now?" The woman, wife of a retired minister, said she had seen me at the rally not in person but on one of the local news broadcasts. She thanked me for having gone, saying she had wanted to go but knew that she would not be able to manage it physically. She was glad I had been there in spirit for her.

So I was represented in spirit at one rally then, later, did my own representing in spirit at another. What goes around comes around, and this time that's a very good thing.