The last men standing

I woke up this morning drenched in sweat and with a headache and heartburn. Was it some sort of advance knowledge of the announcement that came shortly after?

I am crushed that Elizabeth Warren has dropped out, but I am so proud of and thankful for and inspired by her, and I know she will make this country better for years to come. As have all the Dems who’ve suspended their presidential campaigns, Elizabeth did so with grace and class. That an incredibly exciting, diverse Democratic field has been thinned to two elderly white men is, however, utterly disheartening in so many ways.

Do you know how many countries have had female presidents? So many that to take this screenshot for you, I had to minimize my font/page size to 50% of standard.

See how long it took you to scroll through that? Women are NOT 50% of standard.

But we, Americans, have one primary job to do, and that is to literally save this country by beating the orange stain in November. As important is taking the Senate. Both Martha McSally and Susan Collins seem to be well within shot of losing, and I can think of little I’d enjoy seeing more than both being replaced. Well, I would enjoy seeing trump and mitch and lindsey replaced that much, but honestly, all 5 are terrifically horrible, so, let’s divide and conquer.

Back to Elizabeth. This evening, she had a conference call with volunteers. So many of us dialed in that we crashed the platform. I was lucky to get in and am glad for everyone that the call will be recorded and shared. Elizabeth was as warm and supportive as she was during the campaign- strong, unafraid, humble, and wonderful. Be disappointed, but don’t be blinded by it, she said. There is much work to be done.

If you didn’t see clips of her talking with press after formally suspending her campaign, I urge you to watch. If you can’t watch the whole thing, please tune in at 1:30 and at 5:15 (-6:15).

And here are some related articles and a video that I found valuable and thought-provoking and affirming.

What Elizabeth Warren’s Loss Says About Us

America Punished Elizabeth Warren for Her Competence

How Elizabeth Warren Hides Messages in Her Speeches

EW Dropped Out. Hard to Stay Hopeful About November

I’ll be supporting Biden now because I think he is much better positioned to beat trump, and I believe he will listen to and surround himself with the sorts of people that Warren would have (though perhaps less progressive). Fact of the matter is that NOTHING good will happen without ousting trump, and so that is and must remain our absolute priority. #VoteBlueNoMatterWho. I think Biden will choose a strong woman as his running mate, and despite my disappointment over again not being able to add the US flag to the list above, I can get with an interregnum of peace and calm and decency and progress. If Bernie is the nominee, I’ll vote for him, but it will be with almost no enthusiasm.

Let’s do this, y’all. Fire up, get active, build democracy activism into your daily schedules, donate to close and down-ballot races when you can, stay informed, and speak up. On dark days, tired ones, those in which the future seems bleak, read these words of Elizabeth’s, take care of yourself, and then get busy.

“So if you leave with only one thing, it must be this:
choose to fight only righteous fights, because then when things get tough – and they will – you will know that there is only option ahead of you: nevertheless, you must persist.”
-Elizabeth Warren

I-95

Early on this wintry Saturday, I-95 is quiet. Shrouded in fog, lined by spiny, leafless trees, save for the pines. Litter and traffic cones dot the otherwise monochromatic landscape. Here a sleeping excavation machine; there, in a clearing, a shrine to a dead loved one, the cross and wreath tidy, tended. What looks like a hawk wings through the haze. What looks like an owl watches intently, feathers puffed against the chill.

The bus driver pulls into a rest stop. A new driver boards. Wrappers crinkle, a respectfully low din of conversation is a hypnotic white noise.

We resume our journey north. The fog is spectral, enchanting. Was it fog like this that blinded Kobe’s helicopter pilot? What is beautiful can also break, crush, ruin. Just look at the world.

I am heading to New York for refuge in its relentless vibrancy and tolerance, the theater, and a coincidental overlap with my parents’ own week of retreat in the city.

In this bus in this fog in this cold in this path through dead-not-dead, I feel peace for the first time in weeks.

It is welcome.

Sink plants

Ignoring the state of the Republic to bring you a story of sink plants.

Sink plants, you ask? What are they? Do read on.

Several months ago, after brushing his teeth one morning, Ol came in my room and said, “Momma, there are plants growing out of my sink.”

Certain that he was punking me, because Ol is exceptionally good at pulling off pranks of all size and shape, I said, “Sure, Ol. Finish getting ready for school.”

Plants growing out of a sink.

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The next morning, however, Ol returned to tell me that seriously, “There ARE plants growing out my sink.”

“Oliver, WHAT? Ugh.” I kinda stomped into his bathroom, and lo!

Ignoring the disgusting state of the sink and drain itself, or actually not because apparently it sustains life, THERE WERE PLANTS GROWING OUT OF HIS SINK. Boys are really just gross in many ways. I mean, WHAT?

I was so flabbergasted that all I could do was laugh uncontrollably and nearly pee. “Oliver, there ARE plants growing in your sink. This is totally disgusting and also hilarious.”

“I told you, Momma. I have been spitting tomato seeds in there…”

While he was at school, I continued to marvel at the hopeful green sprouts. Our housekeepers had recently scrubbed the sink, Ol had been spitting toothpaste down the hatch twice-daily, there are no windows directly facing the vanity, and oh my god, that drain is nasty. But what did those seeds do? They persevered.

I tenderly removed each seedling and decided to plant them. Why not? Were they in fact tomatoes? What kind? Would they keep growing if transplanted?

Ol’s buddy gave him this dinosaur planter for a birthday years ago, and it seemed perfect for the purpose at hand. I used good potting mix and placed the vessel on a sunny sill in our kitchen. When Ol got home and saw his plants, he was delighted.

Months later, and the sink plants are thriving. One was very alpha, so I had to divide and repot them earlier this week. They’re so damn earnest that I felt I should give them the best shot, and so purchased an inexpensive grow light. This has delighted Oliver, all of us really, even more.

It quickly became clear that the plants were, in fact, tomatoes. And Ol recently shared that he feels they are mini Kumatos. We shall see.