It might be a good thing if I disappear for a while. I’ll play the martyr and imagine no one will notice.
So now no one will read me. For some reason when I go on and on about how pathetic I am, my readership goes up tenfold. I write something political and it drops. As a political commentator, I’m an unknown voice screaming among many. I would think I am the same thing as a pathetic wreck, but apparently not. Or else people like reading about all the pathetic wrecks, so adding me to the mix is okay.
So here is my political blog comment of the day. Well, actually there will be two. First of all, I went to McCain’s site yesterday. His first paragraph says that he wants to overturn Roe v. Wade. Then he says he will appoint judges to fix this decision. Then he says he does not believe it is right to appoint activist judges who legislate from the bench.
Problem number one: Is he, or the person who wrote this drivel since McCain is apparently unable to use the “innernit,” completely unable to see the hypocrisy in this statement? I will appoint judges to overturn this, but I do not believe in appointing legislating activist judges? He obviously thinks appointing someone to overturn a decision is not appointing an activist judge, thereby immuning him from his own hypocrisy, or else he completely misses that what he says is hypocrisy. In either case, it’s a problem.
Problem number two: When judges interpret a law, which is their job, it is not “legislating from the bench.” It is doing the job of a judge. Congress (or another lawmaking body) writes a law, executive branch gives it the stamp of approval, judges interpret. Very little of what is written is 100% clear. Facts need to come along and give a law some teeth and meaning. Freedom of speech? This does not mean you have the right to encourage someone to rape someone else. And on and on. All the words in a law need to be interpreted. That is the job of the judicial branch. Lawmakers jump up and down and throw a fit because judges do exactly what they are supposed to do. That is the POINT of a three-branch system. If lawmakers do not like how a judge interpreted a law, then the problem is not with the judge but with the way a law is written. If lawmakers want judges to interpret a law a certain way, then they need to write that way into the law. Otherwise judges are left trying to determine what the hell the lawmaker meant. If an executive does not want a law to be interpreted a certain way, then the executive should not sign the damn bill into law until it is written more clearly.
It’s basic civics McCain. Maybe instead of focusing on your time in the military 40 years ago, you ought to spend some time going back and relearning basic US governmental structure.
This leads me to the other McCain criciticism of the morning. Why is it that we constantly have to hear all about McCain’s military service? Is this all the guy has done? Uh, yes. The other 60-some odd years of his life are irrelevant, at least that seems to be what he wants us to believe. Let’s focus on the fact he was a POW and ignore all the other crap he’s done in between because if we focused on that, we know it would be hard to sell him as a leader.
Annoying. That’s all I have to say about that.
Doesn’t that sound like the first line of a poem? Speaking metaphorically of course. I am not, however, speaking metaphorically. August 16 is the day my Autumn was born, in 1993. She died July 19, 2005. I chose her the day she was born and she died in my arms. She lived her life with me.
Most people today will go on and on about this being the anniversary of the day Elvis died. I have not yet seen any news sites or anything to proclaim this event, but having spent the last fifteen years noticing August 16, it is difficult not to notice this other event associated with it. I find it remarkable that two decades after the man’s death, the date is still so publicly memorialized. Ah, the cult of celebrity.
Autumn was a gem. She was my little partner. I knew before she was born that I would have a dog and imagined her riding with me in the car. My boyfriend at the time and I drove across the US to go live in Virginia/Tennessee (yes, on the border), and the whole way there I fantasized about getting a dog.
I chose Autumn within weeks of our arrival; she came home five weeks later. I went and held her every day from the time she was born, before she had eyes or ears. I’ve since heard from a rather know-it-all dog breeder that this was completely dangerous because Autumn could have supposedly acquired some disease or other from me, but she did not. All she acquired was the desire to spend all of her time with humans and particularly with me. Throughout her life she followed me wherever I would go, no matter how trivial or short the trip. Going into the kitchen for a glass of water? There was Autumn, at my side. Going for a short visit to the toilet? Autumn would rise from wherever she had been lying, follow me in, sigh heavily as she laid down next to me, then rise again thirty seconds later to follow me back to wherever I had been. I spent a term at school in Munich, Germany when Autumn was just a puppy. Upon my return, she peed on the sidewalk at the airport, her face and demeanor obviously relieved that the person she loved and remembered from the time before she had sight or sound was back. The person she adored had not disappeared forever.
Autumn’s fur was golden, laced throughout with brown hairs and white. She was the color of autumn, hence the choice for her name. She had a white patch on her chest, on two of her toes, and on the tip of her tail. She had the most beautiful brown eyes and I took it as a compliment that people often commented that we looked alike, even more so the year I wore brown contact lenses. Two of her teeth were broken in half from carrying around and chasing rocks. The dog loved fetching. I would mark rocks and then toss them into three or four feet of water in a moving stream. Invariably Autumn retrieved the marked rock from the floor of that stream. She loved to swim, she loved to fetch, diving was the natural result.
Her last years were not pleasant for her. First she acquired interstitial cystitis, then diabetes. All of these I believe now came from problems with her adrenal glands. At the time, no one really knew what caused interstitial cystitis, but I’ve learned that recent research shows a link to adrenal malfunction. All along the doctors thought she had Cushings disease, although she never tested positive for it. Considering Cushings is an adrenal malfunction and Autumn’s diseases were all manifestations of adrenal malfunction, I think it’s a safe assumption that this gland did not work properly for her. Diabetes was the worst. In spite of the twice daily insulin shots I gave her, she wasted away over nearly two years. She lost her sight and grew thin. Yet until the day she died she was lively and happy, chasing sticks and frisbees she could smell even though she could not see, snuggling close to me under the covers after I lifted her onto the bed to be with me.
I am so glad she was born and spent her life with me. I have another beautiful dog named Molly I chose from the humane society when Autumn was two. Molly is a photo negative of Autumn–black where Autumn was yellow, and yellow where Autumn was dark brown. Like two children with their own personalities, each were individuals. Autumn was outgoing, a textbook Leo in personality, Molly is timid and precise. Autumn would attack the vacuum cleaner. Molly goes and finds a corner as far from the sucking machine as possible. She often worries she might be in trouble when you call her. She stares at the floor if someone else has been naughty, human or canine. She will go and hide if another dog potties on the floor, fearful of the possibility someone might get mad. I have now had Molly longer than I had Autumn. She lives with one of my best friends in Oregon. I have missed her stealthy presence, hiding under my bed or in my closet. My friend calls me. He tells me Molly is in the closet. He sent me a photo of her in there staring at his boots. He coaxes her into his basement to eat her food and to get away from the summer heat.
I realized this week that this is the first time that I have not had a dog since I brought Autumn home in September 1993. Growing up we always had dogs. I am not used to being dogless. I like the presence of another in the house always there. I enjoy having my own pack. I miss it. I wonder, sitting here thinking, if maybe I have been experiencing a version of empty nest these last few years, years I have been wanting a purpose, needing something to do, feeling sort of lost. I honestly enjoy taking care of my babies, whether they are dogs or humans. The happiest days of my life I remember are the times when I was taking care of my dogs or my baby girl. My girl has grown enough into herself that she does not require that level of care anymore. My dogs are all gone. How 1950’s housewife of me that taking care of a house and babies is what brings me the most contentment.
I miss Autumn. I love her. Her life is one of the two most important things I have ever experienced. For her life and the time she shared with me, I am grateful. I realized at the birth of my daughter that celebrating one’s birth is a celebration of the fact of being born. I celebrate the fact that Autumn was born. Happy birthday to you, dear one. Thank you for living your life with me.
My blog has turned into two things. One is me going on and on about how pathetic I am. The other is my ranting about the godforsaken political situation in this country. It’s as if my sense of humor has taken a monster shit and been flushed down the loo. It does not exist anymore, at least in writing. I am not sure though that I ever had it. I just had these magical moments where things came to me and I wrote them down, but they are gone now. Or maybe it was just that I was not living in mental chaos all the time. Lately I feel as if I live in mental chaos, in this box where I just want to know what the fuck it is that I want out of life and I go for it. But the times I’ve known what I want and gone for it have been monumental failures, so I have really almost given up trying. Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ve not known exactly what I want for ages, and that has been a big part of the problem. Recently, I have figured out exactly what it is that I want, but it is one of those things that requires others on board and I have not exactly figured out how to present these desires to the other parties involved. The result is that I mope about wanting these things, wondering if they are the right things to want, waffling whether I actually do want them, then wondering again if I do in fact want them how to present these things to other involved parties. It’s a conundrum, I can assure you.
As it is I just spin time, organizing my room, thinking about things I want to write, sitting at the computer and staring, trying to remember what it was I sat down for, then getting up and wandering over to my bed to stare at the wall, continuing in my humorless vein. It’s a good time. It’s such a good time I am going to do it again right now because I am tired. Good night.
Ronrey, I’m so ronrey. I wonder if the universe wanted to teach me a lesson that Portland had its positive side too by sending me somewhere that everything would go wrong and cost me a ton of money. Of course, this assumes the universe thinks like a human, which I do not believe. It also assumes I did not know the good things in Portland, which I also do not agree with. Especially right before I left I noticed that there were certain things that I liked quite a lot, but I also knew I had to go and try something else, that I needed to be away from there. I still don’t really want to be there, but I don’t really want to be anywhere. So what does that mean? I’m the one who is fucked up, that’s what it means. I need to figure out something to occupy my none too busy brain. I need something to manage. I need multiple tasks to manage, in addition to my writing. The man is sending me his taxes to work on. I can’t wait. I am frothing at the mouth with the possibility of doing his taxes. How pathetic does this make me? Not pathetic really, I just have a brain that is too active. It needs too much stimulation. No wonder people tell me I should smoke pot.
I’ll bet you anything the administration is frothing at the mouth to bring back the cold war, only this time with the terrorist twist. Then they can really use fear to their advantage. Terrorists! Communists! War! Oh my! I’ll bet they are wishing this Russian situation had come along earlier so they could exploit it further before they get their asses kicked out of office, but hey, there are still a few months left. I’m sure they can wring something out of it before they leave. They’ll use it to McCain’s advantage. And Fox news will join in to fight the good fight. Obama? You better be on your toes, Guy. These guys are going to exploit this situation like no one’s business. I can guarantee it. Americans have been putting up with the fear card for Iraq and Afghanistan for some time now, but Russia, we haven’t heard about them for a while. It is quite possible to exploit fear using a different monster.
Pay attention! Pay attention! If we want to stop the fear machine before it really takes hold, we better pay attention and jump in now to start thwarting the bullshit attacks that are going to begin. They are going to do it, it’s a guarantee. The only question is how. Just watch. McCain will say something to the effect that Russians are the new terrorist threat and if we don’t watch out, Russia will come and invade the US like they invaded Georgia and we can’t have that now, can we? We had better take offensive action to stop their bad behavior!
This might not be the exact scenario, but something like this will come from their mouths. I’d bet on it.