Disgrace

I’m no stranger to descriptive language or emotion, but the past two days have plunged me into a depth I’ve visited just several times since that horrible excuse for a human became “president.”

Certainly November 9 was wretched, as was Inauguration Day, Charlottesville, the complete theft of a Supreme Court seat, and repeated healthcare debacles.

But something about Evil Yam’s impotent responses to hurricanes Harvey and Irma followed by his vastly stupid and offensive Twitter tantrums against those athletes who chose to take a knee compounded by his appalling invalidation of the suffering of Americans in Puerto Rico and the USVI in the wake of Maria plus his asinine verbal cock-fight with “little Rocket Man” in which actual nuclear weapons are at play all topped off by the horrific and largely preventable massacre in Las Vegas has hellfired me down to the abyss.

That our idiot “leader” finally got his ass to Puerto Rico where he threw rolls of paper towels to desperate citizens like they were eager parade groupies during Mardi Gras, told everyone how minimal their damage was because “only sixteen” have died (arguable and not substantiated), accused Puerto Rico of fucking with our budget, and then said the few hours he spent on the island were “really, really lovely” as if he’d just gotten a goddamn mani-pedi at a slightly nicer-than-usual place is all stunningly deplorable.

So is the fact that he offered Las Vegas his “warmest condolences.” What does that even mean? Did Las Vegas’s guppy just die? Or did more than 500 people just get gunned down by a crazy guy with twenty assault rifles hiding like a coward psycho on the 32nd floor of the Mandalay?  

Its the latter, people. 

Plus, can you even imagine how different the “lone wolf” narrative would be if Paddock were black or Muslim? I cannot even. There are more white domestic terrorists in this country than any others. And guns are their primary weapon. Accept it. 

“Thoughts and prayers” without action are now officially offensive.  

Today I noted on Facebook that more Americans have died from guns since 1968 than in all wars in which America has fought. Ever.  

A relative of mine replied, “I don't know if these numbers are accurate but I personally will mow down with my AK-47 anyone who ever tries to take my guns.”

There are no words for how disgusted, furious, embarrassed, and stunned I was and continue to be by such coarse, tone-deaf, selfish, shameful machismo. I am mortified and grossed out and that guy isn’t a singular example of too many people in this country. 

We, the US, are in the direst of straits.  I am utterly stunned by how quickly trump’s poison has courses through the country’s vascular system. The weaknesses were there, no doubt, but wow.

Eight months in and we are ravaged.  

Oh, and did you hear the one about the Republicans trying to pass a bill to make silencers available to everyone? They’re dying to protect hunters’ ears but I could swear hunters already have easy access to ear protection. You know who doesn’t have protection? People being fired at by an asshole hiding 32 floors above them. Know how they were warned? Because of the fucking sound of the constant gun shots (oh, because that great white American also had access to a neat toy that turned his semi-automatic guns into fully automatic ones. Isn’t that swell? And then he killed himself like a pansy-ass coward so I guess the state of his ears didn’t much matter in the end.)

Oh, and did you also see that today the House passed a bill to ban all abortions after 20 weeks? Only victims of rape get an exemption and even that is a maybe. These guys making all these decisions about women’s bodies totally get it. I mean, they as strangers absolutely know how I might feel if raped or with an unplanned child. And being pro-gun, their pro-life decrees ring SO sincere.

I have almost no hope for this country. It is letting down almost all of its citizens and the world. It is a disgrace.

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The end of an era

After 36 years of work, and lots more in school, my wonderful father is finally retiring. I have always been enormously proud of my dad as a man but also as a physician. He is the sort of doctor that listened as well as he examined, asked and heard as deftly as he tended and scoped (he is a gastroenterologist*). Those are too few and far between, and we are sicker and less understood for it.

Dad's last day is two weeks away, but this past Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, parties were being held in his honor. I wouldn't have missed them for the world. Not least because his birthday, and is he ever a fan of his birthday, is tomorrow, so we got to celebrate many things.

Mom and I thought we'd surprise him, so I caught an early flight on Thursday, Mom picked me up in Lake Charles just after noon, and we headed towards his office where subtle texts to and from his nursing staff promised he'd be.

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SURPRISE! He was not surprised, as someone had spilled the beans weeks ago (grr; don't do that, people)! That's me, reacting to him saying he knew. LOL.

Nonetheless, it was wonderful to walk through his office doors one last time and hug him tight. The parties, including a roast complete with skits and song, were full of love and appreciation and memories and pride. Truly, I am so thankful to have been at them all.

My alarm went off at 4am this morning, and dear Mom and Dad returned me to the Lake Charles airport for my trip home. I'm not feeling terribly cogent right now but wanted to share a few pictures and give another shout out of Congratulations and Happy Birthday to my dear Dad. You deserve this retirement so much. 

Clockwise from upper left:
Pics of Dad at as med school graduation and more recently, the retirement guest list book, and a colon;
Sharon, who has worked with Dad for 21 years, and Mom;
Dad and Mom;
me, Sharon, Patsy (I think she's worked the whole 36 years with Dad), Mom, Nechelle (she took care of my Nanny and then started working at Dad's office, Lisa (there for many years too!);
the girls of the Endoscopy Lab all of whom gamely wore stocking caps to look bald + fringe hair and mustaches to better resemble Dad + glasses (it was HILARIOUS);
Dad and one of his best friends.

*I once went to Take Your Daughter To Work day with Dad and afterwards, fairly yukked out, asked, "Dad, of all the specialities, why did you choose GI?" "Well, honey, I'm good with my hands."

Sweet baby jesus. 

Cakes of the weekend included Retirement (white cake with almond frosting; delicious) and Birthday Chocolate (made by me; also delicious).

a James Beard Foundation highlight

The news yesterday about did me in, and then this morning, I caught Jack downstairs hiding in the office doing something on the computer at an UNGODLY hour. As such, it was with absolute joy and gratitude that an hour ago, in the midst of peevishly running errands, I checked Instagram and found myself tagged by a pal on a James Beard Foundation post. 

Huh?

Turns out they shared my Farro with Golden Beets, Feta, and Pecans salad not only on Instagram but also on their website. I am so flattered and pleased. 

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^^^OMG!

^^^OMG!