The worst job of all has gotta be Director of the Justice Department’s Ethics Office in 2020. When the Attorney General is pointed at political enemies like a big fat cannon and retaliation is handed out like Halloween candy to earnest citizens, the complaints must be voluminous. This year’s Trick or Treat entreaty elicits nothingContinue reading “Halloween hopes”
Category Archives: Essays
Send me a Box of Rain
On this day I am walking into rooms and forgetting why I came, walking in circles, finding irony where one was intended. Last week, some yahoo named Michael Caputo took a leave of absence from his phony baloney job as Assistant Secretary for Public Affairs, which wouldn’t normally transition to a slice of rock and rollContinue reading “Send me a Box of Rain”
What’s in a name?
When I was born, I was given my father’s last name. My first name belonged to an Empress, but that did not make me powerful – it is at the top of my resume, stating the necessary gender. When I married, I had already lived 26 years with this name. It has been engraved on name plates, creditContinue reading “What’s in a name?”
Aunt Mary’s Mask
My Aunt Mary and Dolly Parton had something in common; they never left home without their “war paint” on. Pond’s cold cream and Oil of Olay – goop on, goop off. Gluing on false eyelashes and curling the ones she had, applying foundations, powder for the shiny spots, rouge to add color to the cheeks she justContinue reading “Aunt Mary’s Mask”
Go collect your rubles, Troll, Part 2
They are not talking to me now. Because I questioned their understanding of just who their enemies are. Fox Media had convinced them there was a caravan of terrorists walking – walking – to the U. S. border from various South American countries. I said that was not true. They dismissed me as a Pollyanna.Continue reading “Go collect your rubles, Troll, Part 2”
Where do you store your grief?
What body part stores my grief? I dunno, maybe it’s my feet. By best friend Bernice has a theory about injuries and maladies. That they illustrate a spiritual need that’s not being met. So, I keep breaking/wounding my feet and ankles these last few months. Go ahead, find the parallel, the symbolism of foot problems while Sheltering In Place. I’llContinue reading “Where do you store your grief?”
Colors of the Pandemic
The colors of a pandemic are all muted, the days are covered with a gauzy film of desperation. I guess the part that is most dreadful is knowing hundreds of thousands of people are taking their last breath in colorless rooms where kind cloth covered strangers hold phones to their faces so the family members who would haveContinue reading “Colors of the Pandemic”
Go collect your rubles, Troll
The insult comes immediately upon commenting on line. It’s usually some variation of how I am a Libtard Ivory Tower Snowflake when requesting compassion for the incarcerated. So I type: “go pick up your rubles, troll”. The crazed conspiracy lovers who quote “Fox News” get this comment: “Fox Media because oxymoron”, that’s not news andContinue reading “Go collect your rubles, Troll”
Easy to be silent
In the corridors of memory, I keep a hazy replica of the stucco house in Miami, especially Grandma Tripp’s sewing room. The smells of recently lemon-oiled wood and cedar closets. Trunks and powdered linen. The soft Miami breeze in the corner room at the top of the stairs. The Singer sewing machine in a roundedContinue reading “Easy to be silent”
Love in the time of coronavirus
Starting last Thursday, terror became a day to day thing. Starting late last month, shit got real. Love in the time of coronavirus means calling just to hear the faraway one’s voice.“Just checking in. How y’all holding up?”Video chatting has blurred the meaning of distance. The Winged Wahine had not yet booked our next globeContinue reading “Love in the time of coronavirus”
