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Snowflakes

January 15, 2024 by mountainmornings

Good morning from beautiful, snow covered Nashville where the temperature is 17 degrees. I looked out at the picnic table in the low dawning light, expecting to see a “light dusting,” but to my surprise there’s at least 6 inches of the white stuff and it’s still squalling. Luckily, the schools were closed for Martin Luther King Day and I’m pretty sure every other business has closed as well.

I don’t want to brag, but this is where the lines are drawn between northeners and southeners. When our kids were little, they’d rush to put on the whole kit and kaboodle – thermal underwear and snow suits complete with scarves, mittens and pom pom hats! Let’s not forget the snow boots. They couldn’t wait to make maple snow and build snow caves with their friends in the Berkshire Mountains. OTOH, I don’t even think our Grands own a sled, or ice skates let alone snow boots, and I know for sure they have never seen this much snow.

Sometimes I wonder if I was just imagining walking through tightly packed snow tunnels on the streets of Massachusetts. Did we really get Nor’easters with a couple of feet of snow on a regular basis? That time Bob’s car flipped over into a snow bank on the way to his hospital in Northampton, was that real or just part of a narrative I’ve told myself so many times? The Bride was sitting in her highchair and I was feeding her oatmeal when Bob walked back into the house covered in snow. I didn’t hear a car coming up the driveway; hadn’t he just left for work?

Cognitive dissonance isn’t enough to describe such a feeling but I’ll bet it’s imprinted on us for life. It’s what some patients describe after a dose of ketamine for a procedure – like they are there…but not there. Like the time we heard that Hillary lost the 2016 election. We had to ‘suspend our disbelief’ for the next 4 years, we had to get comfortable with chaos, followed by a tornado and a pandemic. It was a lot to ask, and some of us did better than others.

I thought we’d be talking about Iowa today, but the snow has cocooned us and dampened the GOP. I thought we might look back at the legacy of MLK, Jr, but memorials have been cancelled. When I heard that the principal of an Iowa school had succumbed to his injuries from a school shooter, I was ashamed that I barely remembered the massacre. But I do remember the Covenant School shooting here in Nashville.

When I saw that our own TN Democratic representatives, the Justins, were sanctioned and silenced in the State House because they wanted to talk about gun reform, I was infuriated. Now, Republican-led members have changed the rules for public entry to the people’s house. Getting a ticket to sit in the balcony now, unless you are a lobbyist, is harder than getting a seat at a Taylor Swift concert. That is their scheme; the pleas of Covenant parents to protect their children be damned. Someone once said, “Cruelty is their point” and I’m starting to believe that maliciousness runs in their veins.

As a card carrying Democrat, I was proud to be called a “snowflake.” And I’m just as proud to call myself a Yankee. We know how to deal with a little snow, and we know how to start an avalanche.

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EMTALA

January 9, 2024 by mountainmornings

Happy New Year to you! We’ve been getting off to a good start this year. There are no resolutions to feel guilty about – “I am enough” may be my next best mantra. The Bride and Groom have returned unscathed and refreshed from a trip to New Zealand and Australia with the Grands. And the Rocker and Aunt Cait returned from the East Coast, totally missing that rogue wave in Cali. And if you’re wondering what book is on my 2024 nightstand, it’s a nonfictional look back at the Golden Age of abortion.

I’m not talking about the 60s. I’m currently reading “MADAME RESTELL: The Life, Death, and Resurrection of Old New York’s Most Fabulous, Fearless, and Infamous Abortionist,” by Jennifer Wright. Madame Restell, who lived and worked in the mid-1800s, would advertise her services in all the New York newspapers. She had learned to compound a pill to regulate the menses with a mixture of essential oils and paint thinner. And if that didn’t work, for $100 she could terminate the pregnancy with a whalebone. Surprisingly, her patients lived! But male doctors at the time, who were still using leeches, were threatened by her success and fame.

Madame Restell was not a surgeon, in fact she wasn’t even French. She was an immigrant, a widowed mother from Britain who didn’t want to go into service for a wealthy family (and thereby have to give or sell her child away) or become a prostitute, often the only two choices of the day for women alone. She was an entrepreneur who wasn’t afraid to flaunt her wealth with a carriage decked out in the finest livery. The moral crusaders of the day found such arrogance and lack of shame intolerable. And so Restell found herself in court often, even serving a year in Blackwell Island’s notorious prison.

Ah, the good old days of a medical procedure that is as old as the oldest profession. And since SCOTUS overturned Roe, physicians in some cases are having to reevaluate their care of pregnant women. In other words, The Bride, who is practicing Emergency Medicine in a red state, may have to choose between saving a woman’s life and being exposed to liability, including criminal charges and loss of license. How could that be true? Enter “EMTALA;” a federal law that was passed in 1986 and is the bedrock for Emergency Medicine physicians everywhere. Surely this law would save my daughter from criminal prosecution?

EMTALA is short for the “Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act.” Think about it, most doctors in their offices require insurance or payment up front before your appointment; this law requires ER doctors to treat everyone and anyone who walks through their doors – or rides through on a stretcher – regardless of their ability to pay. Ever since the Bride was a young girl, EMTALA has been the law of the land, just like Roe v Wade. ER docs are quick thinking, fast acting specialists who are not willing to wait for a team of lawyers or administrators to decide if a patient is worth saving because she happens to be pregnant!

SCOTUS is scheduled to rule on this “contradiction” in April… I refuse to hold my breath. Texas has already taken the lead in banning emergency abortions, so sorry, if you find yourself carrying an ectopic pregnancy in TX. Your state has sentenced you to a death penalty already if something should go wrong.

“In the early years of Madame Restell’s business, abortion was classed only as a misdemeanor if performed before quickening, around 20 weeks. Over time, the punishments grew, along with the risks. Madame Restell advertised not just her services but her belief in their necessity. Lifting passages from the social reformer Robert Dale Owen, she likened abortion and contraception to a lightning rod — an invention that was “unnatural,” perhaps, but sensible and lifesaving. She published letters from grateful clients, who proclaimed, “God bless you dear madam, you have taken off the primal curse denounced upon Mother Eve in Eden.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/28/books/review/madame-restell-by-jennifer-wright.html

Lightening rod indeed, from the 19th to the 21st Century and women are still left dying by the hands of red legislators. Today, a third of our country, religious zealots for the most part, because of certain SCOTUS selections, may get their way. It’s not enough for them to ban abortions and outlaw morning after pills as if it were the early 20th Century, now the GOP wants to prosecute the physicians. It’s not just the Ob-Gyns, it’s the ER doctors who are being asked to violate their Hippocratic Oath, and EMTALA.

Here is a throwback to the 80s with my little Bride in her Daddy’s ER.

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The 5 Highs and Lows

January 2, 2024 by mountainmornings

Happy New Year! Looking back on 2023, I wanted to list the roses and the thorns – the high points and the lows:

1 The HIGHEST point of the year was our visit to the Rocker and Aunt Kiki in LA! Hiking, cooking and living the good life in the Golden State…. The LOWEST point of the year was visiting the Bride’s ER with Bob after his fall. He was wearing socks on the new wood floor and slid into a corner hitting his head. Luckily, he’s alive and well!

2. HIGH: Having my big sister, Kay, visit this past summer. We had a good time and if I’m not careful, we could turn into “Little Edie and Big Edie” and have a Lifetime movie made about us…. LOW: Losing Ms Bean was heartbreaking. She was as sweet as sugar and put up with the little Emperor’s visits because she knew I loved her best. I still expect to see her little Homer Simpson face whenever I open the front door.

3. HIGH: Lake mini-vacations with family and friends! Wildwood and Lake Barclay were wild and wonderful getaways even though I remain a devout ocean/beach person for life. LOW: The unfortunate and very painful incident of a certain little French Emperor named Watson breaking my finger. After surgery and rehab I’m the proud owner of three tiny screws in my right ring finger, although this is nothing compared to my siblings’ hip hardware!

4. HIGH: Finding a new friend right next door who insisted I continue my aqua therapy for osteoporosis in her pool!! I didn’t think I could make many new friends at my age, but we instantly hit it off and she has a grand dog we can walk together! LOW: As much as I love my new neighborhood, we did have to clean swastikas off the side of another neighbor’s house one day. So many people showed up to wash away the hateful images it turned into a block party and cancelled the hate with love.

5 HIGH: There are so many delightful instances that happen because Bob and I live so close to the Bride and Groom; stopping by for a walk with their old dog, cooking together, dropping off freshly made bagels, and of course the unexpected visit of a grandchild – those are the very BEST! LOW: We had a family of squirrels trying to squat in our attic and one even fell down into a bedroom wall. Bob hired a professional squirrel wrangler to set traps and “relocate” the critters. I stayed out of it for the most part!

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Is Fun Done?

December 25, 2023 by mountainmornings

First of all, Merry Christmas to all who celebrate.

It’s rainy and warm here in Nashville and for a change, there will be no doctor from our family on duty in any ER or ICU! Our adult kiddos are traveling within and without the states this year so we’re all alone; we don’t even have grand dog duty. Our neighbors have taken pity on us, so we’ve had cookies and cakes dropped on our doorstep. I guess being Jewish in the South is a novel experience for many, but with Hanukkah behind us and no Chinese restaurant in sight, Bob and I plan to relax and enjoy our rainy day!

Maybe I’ll vacuum? I must confess we managed to buy a cord-free, lightweight Dyson on a cybersale Monday and it has changed my life for the better. It not only picks up everything, it shines a light on the floor or rug and displays what kind of dust and debris it’s catching on its handle! I mean, between the air purifier and the Dyson, what else do we need? I know it’s very trendy, and I hate being on trend, but I’m even dreaming about vacuuming.

What do you do for fun? If you had no cares, and nowhere to go, would you watch a football game? Would you kick your feet up and read a book, or would you strap on your sneakers and run on the treadmill? I’ve had to accommodate my changing body, but I can still mount our free Buy Nothing Facebook elliptical and do some gentle Pilates. An article in the Post caught my eye the other day, the writer posits we Americans no longer know how to have FUN! In other words, “It’s become emphatic, exhausting, scheduled, hyped, forced and performative.”

Consider what we’ve done to fun. Things that were long big fun now overwhelm, exhaust and annoy. The holiday season is an extended exercise in excess and loud, often sleazy sweaters. Instead of this being the most wonderful time of the year, we battle holiday fatigue, relentless beseeching for our money and, if Fox News is to be believed, a war on Christmas that is nearing its third decade.“

https://www.washingtonpost.com/style/of-interest/2023/12/23/fun-is-dead/

And I get it. The stress of the happy season to feel happy can be depressing. Take the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life,” Jimmy Stewart is so depressed (and drunk I might add) he’s ready to jump off a bridge until an angel recounts all the myriad ways he’s made a difference. Bob and I watched my favorite holiday movie “Love Actually” last night and all doesn’t end well in old London town. There is still infidelity and unrequited love via poster boards. And this year, in particular, even Bethlehem has cancelled Christmas because of the war.

A Biblical, age-old war between brothers, the Arabs and the Jews, both born of Abraham. His wife Sarah was too old to conceive and so Ishmael was born via her maidservant, Hagar/who/by/the/way/was/not/Jewish – the first surrogate mother in the Bible. Later, when Abraham was 100, he and Sarah had a son, Isaac. Guess which son inherits the fertile crescent? They are still working this out, because one brother does not want to share, sound familiar? From the Camp David Accords in 1978 to the Oslo Accords in 1993 only one side has refused a two state solution, the Palestinians.

If the Irish and the English worked things out, the Bosnians and the Serbs, and the North and the South for that matter, I’m left wondering why peace is so illusive in the Mideast. Who is benefitting from this war? The leaders of Hamas who sit comfortably in Qatar, reportedly billionaires who live luxuriously while their people suffer. The right-leaning Israeli leaders who have cemented their hold on Netanyahu’s government after October 7 surely. But money, power, oil and water are not the only answers in this multi-generational feud. Plus, why must an American president work out an accord? Where are the leaders in the Arab world, the kings and sheiks who pull the strings?

I didn’t mean to leave you with a sour note this morning. In fact, since I cannot control the Mideast and unless you happen to be a Secretary of State neither can you, it seems imperative that we do what we can to practice compassion – both for ourselves and others – as we head into a new year. May you do what makes you happy today and Merry Cleaning!

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The Diet Diatribe

December 19, 2023 by mountainmornings

I just had my annual physical with Dr M, an internist/palliative care doctor I love. She sits and faces me, not the computer, she talks about life in general and listens to me, she asks questions about my health and the family (spoiler – she’s a friend of the Bride and Groom). My doctor looks in my ears, listens to my heart and figures out what immunizations I need, like the pneumonia vaccine. Ouch, that hurts going in! Then just before giving me a clean bill of health, right as I was about to hop off the table, she looked at the weight her nurse had noted in my chart that day.

In fact, she flipped all the way back to 2016 and spoke aloud my weight each year…

It wasn’t an actual surprise and I should have seen it coming. After all, I rarely get on a scale and the past 18 months has seen my mobility greatly compromised by my bone density. In other words, I knew I needed to work on building up my strength and endurance, on walking more and starting to lift small weights again. And I’d just gone through my closet for the winter, unearthing sweaters that did feel a bit snug. Subconsciously I knew it was time to move more and eat less. Still, having my doctor point out the obvious facts in such a kind, non-judgmental way was edifying.

I need to lose weight! My AHA moment had arrived. No more blaming the incremental, ballooning pounds on a Mr T presidency, a Pandemic, and my osteoporosis. It’s time to try to pull up those big girl pants and get down to business. Dr M suggested smaller portions while also telling me not to worry about it until after the holidays. Sure, right at the bell of a New Year I could join the throngs of people starting their weight loss journey like salmon swimming upstream. Until then, don’t worry about it.

Well if you know me, telling me NOT to worry about something is a perfect way to keep me worrying, especially since I hadn’t been worrying about my weight so much to begin with. I was just avoiding scales! Call me a humbug, but I’m not starting a food journal, never did and never will. I’m not paying someone else to keep me on track, like Weight Watchers (WW) or Noom. And I told Dr M that I absolutely won’t take Ozempic, and she immediately agreed with me… even if Oprah has decided to jump onboard the diabetes drug weight loss train.

I’ve watched Oprah pull a wagon of fat across the stage in her heyday. Oprah is the Phil Donahue to my generation of women; the second wave of feminists who threw out pantyhose and girdles but decided to try and emulate Twiggy anyway. The big O is still on WW’s Board and stands to make millions more by endorsing an easy fix – the shot that costs hundreds of dollars and promises to curb your appetite. It’s like our whole country has just given up, willpower and lifestyle be damned. And Oprah has given us her blessing to shoot up (It’s not a magic pill, it’s a once-weekly injection for Type 2 diabetes). Let’s see what Sima Sistani, the new CEO of WW had to say when she spoke with All Things Considered:

Ms. Winfrey, along with the rest of our board, stands by our business vision and our program offerings. But we all know that her story has been one that has been a generational story and one that mimics so many people who, on a day to day basis, struggle with the same shame and bias where weight loss has been associated with a preoccupation around thinness. And what we’re trying to do is reshape that conversation around weight health. It’s not a matter of vanity. This is about the degree to which weight impacts your health and your quality of life. And for decades, we’ve discussed weight and dieting and obesity in terms that isolate people and often demotivate them.

https://www.npr.org/2023/12/18/1219710239/weightwatchers-oprah-ozempic-drugs-wegovy

When I confessed my conversation with Dr M to the Bride, she said, “DIETS DON’T WORK!” She knew Sistani at Duke; they were undergrads together and Sistani belonged to the same sorority as the Bride’s roomie. Disordered eating was everywhere on the Duke campus in the 90s, but when wasn’t a woman trying to fit into her culture’s idea of beauty? Tattoos, piercings, foot-binding, neck-lengthening chokers, corsets. Even Egyptian women wore eyeliner! So why shouldn’t we starve ourselves today? The thing is, I’m already injecting a drug to build back bone, I’d rather not inject something else for a disease I don’t have.

I’m not here to shame you if Ozempic or Wegovy are your golden tickets. Just don’t think any of these companies are acting as your fiduciary. Maybe the problem is simply capitalism. After all the pharmaceutical industry wins, Weight Watchers wins, and the consumer pays to lose weight. I told the Bride to fight back, weave her yoga teaching into her medical practice for an integrative approach to health and wellness. Borrow from the East and practice preventative medicine. Let’s all eat like we live in a Blue Zone. Break the next generation of feminists free of body dysmorphia, our last self-loathing trap.

At least my shoe size hasn’t changed! Merry Christmas Everyone, be kind to yourselves.

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Give Me Liberty!

December 12, 2023 by mountainmornings

It’s the American way, right?

To live freely: to practice your faith without the fear of being swept into a pogrom, or for that matter NOT to practice any faith; to speak your mind in a public square and maybe on the internet too; to care for and cherish your very own bodily autonomy so that you may procreate or NOT, depending on the context. I’m referring of course to the Kate vs Ken case in Texas. Kate Cox is 31 and she was carrying her third child when she found out the baby would never live.

Enter the TX Attorney General, (R) Ken Paxton. Despite Cox’ physician warning that forcing her patient to carry an unviable fetus to term would inflict not just emotional damage but true physical harm – meaning a total hysterectomy at best, death at worst – Paxton believes that only he and his Republican zealots should decide Kate Cox’ fate. He is willing to send any doctor to jail for administering life-saving care. In fact, he threatens to prosecute anyone trying to help Cox leave the state to procure an abortion.

And since the TX Supreme Court overturned a ruling allowing the procedure, she has been forced to do just that – pack up and leave her state. Maybe it’s time we developed a new type of travel itinerary – like adventure travel, destination weddings, or river cruises. Let’s call this post-Dobbs journey the “MY STATE LOVES WOMEN TOUR”: short stays in boutique, medically supervised AirBnBs close to hospitals and/or Planned Parenthood clinics in an actually sane state that allows reproductive health care and freedom to all!

No woman in 2023 in this country should have to ask permission of a judge to receive any kind of healthcare! This bears repeating: No woman in 2023 in this country should have to ask permission of a judge to receive any kind of healthcare! In fact, no person should be put in this position!

And yet, here we are. According to Yahoo News “…a little over 92,000 people in the U.S. traveled to other states in the first half of 2023 to receive abortion care, more than double the 40,600 who did the same during a similar period in 2020.” 

OK so let’s double that number to nearly 200 thousand for a full year and then let’s add all the poor women who cannot afford to travel out of state. I cannot understand how this is happening today to half the population of our country!

While we are lighting the menorah Bob made when he was 12 in summer camp, these are the thoughts swirling around in my mind. Our country is going backward. Books are being banned in our TN schools and I actually had to think twice about putting our electric menorah in the window. Should I be advertising our religion? With blow up santas, snowmen and lights galore in our neighborhood, I bravely plugged our kitsch orange menorah in and turned her on. She’s shining behind our lawn sign that says “Hate Has No Place in our Neighborhood.”

Even though our liberty is in jeopardy in our state houses, I have to believe our country, our democracy will survive.

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Cold Snap

December 4, 2023 by mountainmornings

It’s December already. Bob and I try to walk after lunch since it’s too dark to walk after dinner. Yesterday was a record day for Welsh Corgi sightings on our park’s greenway. We met at least five of both the Pembroke and Cardigan variety, and thoroughly enjoyed talking to one young woman who was walking two Corgis – one a beautiful brindle and the other a tri-color like our Tootsie Roll. You might say I am missing having a dog. Nobody greets you at the door like ‘woman’s best friend!’

Speaking of canines, I have to confess my latest streaming obsession. “The Secret Life of Dancing Dogs” is on Hulu and is throughly worth watching. A reclusive woman from Norway and a young British woman with juvenile arthritis will steal your heart along with their dogs. I guess this is the closest thing to reality TV that I actually like because it combines my two great loves – dance and dogs!

https://www.hulu.com/series/the-secret-life-of-dancing-dogs-4df02fde-ad1d-4b73-97a2-ed52772d3469

The first time I saw a woman dancing with a dog was on the Gram. I tend to follow authors on social media and I’d just read Ann Leary’s book “The Good House,” so I was surprised to find out she is married to actor Denis Leary and lives on a farm with lots of animals. You know when we first moved south to Cville I’d wanted to raise alpacas, and so I envied her bucolic life. Leary’s videos were nearly always outside in New England weather of all sorts showing her horse whispering or dog dancing skills. How hard could it be I thought, to teach a dog to dance?

Very hard as I have learned from Hulu. Another sensational series on Apple is “Lessons in Chemistry.” I absolutely loved reading the book by Bonnie Garmus and although it’s true that the movie version was not quite like my imagination, it was enjoyable and cathartic nonetheless. A love story between two scientists with an actual talking dog – I mean…..

There was no dog featured in the latest Parnassus signed first edition, “The Absolution” by Alice McDermott. If you too are not fortunate enough to have the company of a furry friend, you may want to consider curling up with this book on a cold winter night. A seminar on power both personal and global, and its malignant consequences, it is compelling. She writes from a feminist perspective about our early build-up to the Vietnam War… which had me thinking of those Israeli soldiers, the young WOMEN who tried to warn their superiors about the uptick in Hamas activity before 10/7.

I’m beginning to wrap Hanukkah presents since latkes will be served the first night, this coming Thursday, December 7 (WHAAAA)! We decided to gift the Grands their first present early – warm puffer coats! This year will be a bittersweet holiday season for Jews around the world. We will light candles to illuminate yet another war, another moment in time when Jews were not assimilated or extinguished entirely.

In the second century BCE, the Holy Land was ruled by the Seleucids (Syrian-Greeks), who tried to force the people of Israel to accept Greek culture and beliefs instead of mitzvah observance and belief in G‑d. Against all odds, a small band of faithful but poorly armed Jews, led by Judah the Maccabee, defeated one of the mightiest armies on earth, drove the Greeks from the land, reclaimed the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and rededicated it to the service of G‑d.“

https://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanukah/article_cdo/aid/102911/jewish/What-Is-Hanukkah.htm

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Authentically Yours

November 28, 2023 by mountainmornings

“This above all: to thine own self be true.”

This was the Hamlet quote I penned in the Rocker’s high school senior yearbook. It follows that if one is true to oneself, then telling the truth to others should come easy. Just like all those Republicans who have decided not to run for reelection are now spouting the truth. Of course Joe Biden won the election, although they may still follow that up with a conspiracy theory or two. Rep (R) Ken Buck of Colorado, who was evicted from his Capitol building office after voting against Jim Jordan for Speaker said:

“Our nation is on a collision course with reality and a steadfast commitment to truth, even uncomfortable truths, is the only way forward,” 

False news and disinformation have become ubiquitous for this generation. Maybe that explains why the word of the year is, “Authentic.” It was 2023’s most searched word in this country, “…driven by stories and conversations about AI [artificial intelligence], celebrity culture, identity, and social media”, according to the Merriam Webster dictionary. They define “authentic” as:

… not false or imitation; true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character; worthy of acceptance or belief as conforming to or based on fact; genuine, bona fide, being actually and exactly what is claimed. authentic implies being fully trustworthy.” 

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/authentic

Wouldn’t an “authentic politician” be an oxymoron? The Flapper certainly thought so; it was all downhill after FDR.

My son must have followed that yearbook admonition of over 20 years ago. because he and his wife Kiki are as authentically legit as it gets! We had the best quiet Thanksgiving week with them cooking, hiking, making music, playing board games and generally chillaxing. The Pumpkin is learning to shred a guitar like his Uncle, and the Bug wowed Kiki with her basketball prowess. The little emperor commonly known as Watson the Frenchie kept us all laughing while watching the National Dog Show. I was rooting for the Welsh Corgi of course!

When I was young, I’d hear girls say they could “be themselves” around some boy. A good sign I thought, to be able to trust someone else, to be vulnerable. But then, did that mean that most of the time this girl was not being herself? Being true to yourself is a high bar. Still, I wish todays’ young girls didn’t feel the need to conform, or compete with each other. Granted I was a knee sock, Weejun wearing preppy in high school. New penny loafers had to be blackened just so with polish before wearing; we all get to pick our own tribes. And for most of us, college and real life help soften the edges.

If we are all on a collision course with the truth, we better fasten our seat belts. There are still insurrectionists masquerading in Congress; in fact 147 Republicans (139 representatives and 8 senators) voted NOT to certify the election on the evening of January 6, 2021… after running for their lives during the insurrection. The ringleader of this kooky coup, Jordan, was nearly elected speaker! Plus, we have the many trials and tribulations of the Republican front-runner to suffer through.

So put your thinking beanies on everybody. Let’s check the facts, and vote like your life and liberty depend on it. Because they do.

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Techno Turkey

November 20, 2023 by mountainmornings

Good Morning everyone. I wish you well if you’re traveling this week. We’ll be cooking up a storm here in Nashville with all the usual sides – my butternut squash casserole and the Bride’s baked sweet potato marshmallow confection. In fact I’ll have to make this short because it’s time to make the corn bread for my traditional corn bread stuffing; no jalapenos, or sausage, because I’m keeping it classic.

But before I head into the kitchen, I feel I’ve finally been vindicated! For a long time now I’ve been suspicious of my devices. Not to the point of roaming around Times Square with a poster, but I think that they are listening to us. Even when they’re not turned on… Why? Because almost every night I climb into bed and Bob starts getting ads on his iPad, like ads about cordless Dyson vacuums, or bras. And I understand, I really do.

But every now and then we’ll get targeted ads about stuff we’ve only discussed in the privacy of our home. It’s one thing to search the internet for a small bathroom vanity, followed by Wayfair vanity ads, and it’s quite another to have a conversation about “natural pools/ponds” and start seeing them show up everywhere. What I didn’t know is that Alexa was actually caught listening, recording and selling private conversations a few years ago, and they even archived the data. https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-alexa-spying-scandal-creates-trust-problem-with-customers-2018-5

Oh and in this season of giving, guess how a reporter tracked the money trail from lawyers who had business before the SCOTUS to Clarence Thomas? For a Christmas party no less. They sent the cash via Venmo to one of his aides! “J’ACCUSE”, Mr Thomas.

“Just as surprising was the way the publication learned about it: from the aide’s public Venmo records. Brian X. Chen, the consumer technology writer for The Times, wrote that even he was surprised that such records of money transfers could be public.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/20/opinion/apple-google-privacy.html

I draw the line with technology and not cause I’m too old to understand it. I’ve never used Venmo. I refuse to talk to Alexa, I will only thumb-text. I’m off Twitter thank goodness, and I’m not going near Tiktok. Can’t quite quit the Gram, but using Facebook/Meta sparingly and only on my laptop. And anytime an App want’s me to sign in for some AI, I say, “No thank you!” That was way before today’s big news about the chaos at OpenAI since Sam Altman was sacked and promptly scooped up by Microsoft.

In a bit of good news, California and Colorado have enacted laws to allow for one single opt-out request to have ALL data brokers delete ALL your personal information. Guess every state will have to clunk along to catch up for us to expect any semblance of privacy. And I’ll just have keep the Flapper’s secret ingredients for her stellar banana cream pie to myself!

Here are the Grands baking (apple cider donut muffins) and making (a guitar) this past week.

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SLT and Me

November 14, 2023 by mountainmornings

My Zoom call with siblings ended Sunday on a funny note. I was recalling the Bug’s latest basketball game, and a conversation with some parents afterwards – it seems a mom was arranging for a past Miss Tennessee beauty queen to give a two hour “etiquette and table manners” lesson. I was listening politely, the Groom whipped out his phone and was interested in the date, and all of a sudden the Bride said, “NO!” It was unequivocal, this was not happening. Her reaction surprised me, but the Groom just shot me one of those, ‘you raised her’ looks and that. was. that. Kay burst out laughing.

My brother Dr Jim, the psychologist, put his palm to his forehead and suggested I read about social modeling. Albert Bandura was a pioneering psychologist in the 60s. After Jim returned from Vietnam, it wouldn’t surprise me if he and Al met up at a conference in Big Sur. Bandura synthesized the swinging sixtie’s cognitive behavioral models of learning. In a nutshell, he developed Social Learning Theory (SLT). Imagine a Venn diagram with “Behavioral Factors” in one circle, “Environmental Factors” in another, and “Personal Factors” in another which would include ‘…cognition, affective and biological events’; SLT lies at its intersection.

So if we learn best from observation and modeling certain behaviors, was my brother telling me that the Bride was right? Would teaching young girls the rules of etiquette be a modern day equivalent of binding their feet? And what would Barbie say about all this… Well she would want me to be grateful like a pageant winner should be. I have a few people to thank for teaching me table manners:

The Flapper taught me how to set a table and to cut meat one piece at a time. She also demonstrated which fork goes with what dish. Of course, NJ in 1959, when I was the Bug’s age, wasn’t Victorian England – we didn’t have to grapple with oyster forks.

Mr B, my step-father the judge, would occasionally look across the table straight at me and bark, “Is your head tired?” So I learned not to slump or rest my elbows on the table, and therefore my head in my hand at dinner. Plus, I was never allowed to read at the table, that was considered just plain rude.

My big sister Kay always had a bit of wisdom to impart whenever we’d eat out in a swanky NYC restaurant. Most importantly she taught me to NEVER pick up a whole piece of bread and shove it in my mouth. “You break a small piece of bread off, butter it and voila.” These days I try not to inhale the bread bowl before a fancy meal; but at least when I can’t resist, like at Red Lobster, I’m breaking bread daintily.

In retrospect, I’m proud of my feminist Bride who said they don’t give boys etiquette lessons! Maybe if it was co-ed? When my daughter was a college student in Paris she did take some kind of wine and dine course, but it was for American students of both sexes. They learned which wine to serve with each course, and they learned about the history and art of haute cuisine. So very French, n’est ce pas?

Table manners are the least of most girls’ worries. Pre-teens must not only deal with the usual hormones and peer pressure of yesteryear, but also the voracious social media messages to chase perfection today, to filter their image and emotions; not to mention the potential for horrific online bullying. Makes me glad my foster mother Nell always said, “What would the neighbors think?” She taught me by modeling her insecurity, not to care what others thought of me. Some might argue, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Does one keep one’s hat on at an outdoor beach restaurant? Mais OUI!

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