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Posts Tagged ‘Voting’

“What’s the most joyful sound in the world to you?” For me, it’s the sound of our twin granddaughters laughing. The girls were playing peek-a-boo with each other, running in and out of a tent. Children laughing is the most delightful sound!

I was reading an article about how to find more joy when you’re feeling hopeless. It’s important to keep our spirits up until the midterms and beyond. The author said she liked attending “quirky community events,” like this parallel parking competition in Philadelphia. She said experiencing other people experiencing joy is just as good – although she doesn’t know about my history with Bob sitting on the front porch in Germantown. He liked to sit in the rocking chair and critique every driver who tried to parallel park in front of our house next to the chocolate shop. It was less joyful commentary, more hilarious, biting sarcasm.

This isn’t exactly a community event – not like the Tomato Festival in East Nashville – but it IS a special thing I do, just for me, once or twice a week. And because we were traveling, and then of course I caught a cold, followed by my dermatologist scraping and freezing barnacles off my body, it had been about a month since I participated in the JCC’s water aerobic’s class. Well yesterday I jumped back in the pool and I can attest that it is a joyful experience! And I think our group of mostly old ladies like me is kinda quirky. We walk around the women’s locker room in the altogether and don’t give two hoots what our bodies look like, which is a relief after decades of feeling judged.

“Can you recall something that gave you joy?” Surprisingly, the smell of cabbage brings me joy, but not just any cabbage. Nell didn’t really cook, but when she did she’d make Halupki (hah-loop-keys)! This is stuffed cabbage cooked in sauerkraut! I have some leftover rice, maybe I’ll make Halupkies tonight?

“These really small moments don’t have to fix everything to matter. You can even go on a “search for joy,” Dr. McGonigal said, at a specific location that has potential for uplift, such as a park or a library. Then let your attention wander, she said, and seek something that gives you a burst of delight.” https://www.nytimes.com/2026/10/09/well/find-joy.html

Every now and then I like to stroll around Nashville’s antique emporium. It’s a huge warehouse with two floors of dealers in fine and not so fine furniture and tchotchkes. You never know what you’ll find around a corner in this 50,000 sq ft space and it’s easy to get lost among the many “… Primitive, Victorian, Art Nouveau, Art Deco, Mid-Century Modern (MCM), Hollywood Regency, Architectural Salvage, Historical Pieces, and Man Cave décor” one of a kind finds! I guess it’s as close as I’ll come to a Paris Flea Market. https://www.gaslampantiques.com/

And in a joyful bit of serendipity, my brother Eric and I were both interviewed (separately) last week – I was on Nashville’s Public Radio and he was on Substack! On the way to Nashville, he and his wife Bev were interviewed on the Mall in DC by Matt Berg from Substack’s “Crooked Media: If you recall, Eric flew a Huey, a med-evac helicopter in Vietnam. He said, “I’m a veteran, not a sucker and loser.”

  • The man, named Eric, explained that he’s a decorated combat veteran who spent a year and a half in Vietnam. He had just finished visiting the Vietnam Memorial, where his crew chief and fellow medic are honored. He gazed at the Reflecting Pool with disgust.
  • “It’s an atrocity,” said Eric, who’s visiting from St. Louis, Missouri. “It’s another example of him trying to put his mark on something to make himself feel bigger and better than everyone else.” https://substack.com/@crookedmedia?utm_source=top_search

And how did I get on NPR? Easy, Bob and I were one of the first people to vote EARLY in our district. Early voting numbers are streaming in and that’s a joyful noise to me. Don’t be fooled by right-wing propaganda, even though the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA) has been gutted by the current administration, our state and local agencies have turned to ‘information-sharing networks and an ecosystem of nonprofits and paid consultants’ to fill the gap in a MacGyver-like safety net. That’s why ProPublica reported on some political appointees at the DHS trying to get CISA to hack a voting machine! Not on our watch! https://www.propublica.org/article/cisa-election-security-donald-trump

Enjoy the cooler temperatures everyone! And don’t fall for the blatant bribery coming out of the White House for your vote. Our democracy is not for sale.

Found these twin giraffes for our casita at Gaslamp.

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As I watched VP Kamala Harris certify all the votes yesterday, I felt sick to my stomach. She was standing while the Speaker of the House was sitting, was this normal? People were applauding. And all I could see were the interns and clerks, the young people who have to haul and count and manage the certification of Trump’s election. No one objected to the results; it was done the way it has always been done, a pro forma procedure, with a few exceptions.

I wondered how many of the legislators and their staff were there on the House floor, four years ago, when they had to run for their lives from an angry insurrectionist mob.

I’ve felt betrayed and defeated before. I think about my very first vote for president in 1968 for Eugene McCarthy. I was a college student living in Boston, and it was a tumultuous time. Our leaders had been assassinated that same year, first Martin and then Bobby. We wanted the War in Vietnam to end, and Richard Nixon had promised to do just that. But he was a duplicitous, disingenuous politician. Only the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts cast all their votes for McCarthy! The only state in the Union to see through Nixon’s lies.

Serendipitously, I happened to be reading Eric Larson’s, “The Demon of Unrest” in California last week. I’d rather not carry paper books in my luggage, and so I’m left to catch up with certain books on my iPad’s Kindle App. I found myself settling back into Civil War history with Larson’s incredible narrative of the time just before Lincoln’s election to the attack on Fort Sumter in South Carolina. A period of just five months! All the intrigue, all the rebel-rousing, all the back room negotiating and the fear. The unbridled fear that a Southern way of life, based on slavery, was about to be extinguished.

” —a period marked by tragic errors and miscommunications, enflamed egos and craven ambitions, personal tragedies and betrayals. Lincoln himself wrote that the trials of these five months were ‘so great that, could I have anticipated them, I would not have believed it possible to survive them.”

It was pro forma for congressmen to carry pistols to the floor, and Larson tells us that if they didn’t carry one, they carried two! President Buchanan, Lincoln’s predecessor, was not just a lame duck, he was the Neville Chamberlain of his time trying to avoid the tornado heading straight for his administration. State after state would secede from the Union, and there reading on a deck in sunny California, I understood the fear, the demonic fear of losing something so fundamental. Like losing the civil rights my ancestors fought for; it’s an existential threat.

In the past few months I’ve been focused on my recovery and not on the fact that Mr T was re-elected. And just as my bones are healing, my psyche is coming to terms with the inevitable inauguration. We are heading into a bleak political horror show, just as a bitter, cold week descends on us here in Nashville.

I’ve started making soup again, all the washing and chopping are good therapy for my hands. These hands must get strong to hold twins! My friend Les brought me cranberry muffins yesterday and while Bob headed over to the Bride’s house to help hang some floating shelves, we got to catch up. Her son went back to college and her husband, a pediatrician, went back to his office. I thanked her for watering my plants while we were away, and leaving us a warm pot of black-eyed peas for New Year’s Eve.

We certainly need all the luck we can muster for the next four years. And ALL the Legos!

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