I remember every face

After this week, and this bloody election, I’m harking back to my roots. Those would be Dylan and Nina.

‘Nuff said.

 

 

Dining update

As we wait out the election—and our disappointment in the electorate’s choice of Senators—seems like a good time for me to give you pix of the takeout meals I ate last week.

Sushi, from Yoko Sushi:

Entrecôte au poivre, from Café Montmartre:

(No photo of the mousse au chocolat, but it was the best I’ve ever had.)

Scampi, from Gregorio’s Trattoria:

(This was the biggest disappointment of the week; not nearly enough garlic and the linguine was decidedly meh. How meh, you inquire? This meh: I put the leftover linguine out on the patio on Sunday, and neither the birds nor the squirrels would touch it. Some critter in the night took it, so possibly a hit with raccoons, possums or skunks.)

Persian lamb, from Rose Restaurant:

(That was two meals’ worth. Every bite lovely. Their baklava, however; meh.)

Roast chicken with thick-cut bacon and mushrooms, from Mon Ami Gabi:

(It was okay; the mushrooms were the best part. I added the broccolini. And their chocolate mousse might have been fine except I’d had Café M’s only a few days earlier.)

Friday I made my usual pizza bianca insalata; no pic. Saturday was left over chicken. And I am inexplicably unable to show you Sunday’s seared salmon from Cooper’s Hawk. It was absolutely delicious, so clearly I’ll have to get it another night and take a photo for you.

I also made a point of having breakfast at the dining table, as opposed to in front of a screen. The pain au chocolate is a bake-yourself from Trader Joe; I made café au lait to go with it. As is my custom when traveling, I used that time to add to my journal. My last entry prior to last week was 12 March, the day before I started WFH. I had a lot to catch up on.

Sorry all I can share with you is the photos. Many of these meals were absolutely top notch; they would have improved for me having someone to join me. Maybe on my next vacation?

 

 

 

 

 

Cauchemar

 

Folks, I got nothing today. This nightmare is not ending soon, and I just have nothing to say.

I hate you, 2020.

Why we fight

Well, today’s the day. It’s going to be hard for me to spend my day on the computer without trying to look at the news every three minutes, so every time I’m tempted, I’m going to have to instead do a yoga pose.

I really have no words for you today, so let me instead give you some pictures of America to remind you what’s at stake and what we can be when we really try.

I shot this photo while visiting my BFF in Oregon one autumn. It reminds me of the natural beauty of this land, and of the years of friendship we shared:

This one’s from the Great River Road on the border of Wisconsin and Minnesota—which is hardly great, rather far from the (Mississippi) River and not much of a road. But still. For many, many people, this is the heartland—it was and maybe it still is, I dunno:

To me, this commercial mashup epitomizes the strength and richness of the American experience; I shot it in Glendale, Calif., in the last century, but these days it could be in a lot of cities:

Technically speaking, this isn’t America. Well, actually speaking, it’s not America. I took it on my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. But it’s always reminded me that poco a poco, se va lejos, and in times like these, even incremental shifts toward the good are to be valued:

This one’s from the Renaissance Pleasure Faire and Maymarket, back in the Old Days in Agoura (now nothing but housing tracts and strip malls; progress, man). But it’s always made me smile. I took the French language assistant (a Parisian) to the Faire one year, and she marveled at seeing Americans dress up in costumes (many rather lame, tbh, but efforts all the same)—the French would never do that, she said. Yeah, prolly not:

Two photos from Arlington National Cemetery, to remind us of the cost of bringing us to where we stand. The second one is from Memorial Day 2016, in Section 60, where the most recent dead are joining comrades from the past. These are not losers or suckers; they are men and women who paid for our way of life with their lives. Imagine that:

This is from two weeks ago: Fairfax County Public Library adjusting to the reality of being eight months into a pandemic without national leadership:

And finally—tonight I light candles for hope. And courage. And  faith in America.

 

Gratitude Monday: holding the line

Tomorrow, as all the world knows, is a Big Day, and there’s so much riding on the outcome. We’ve already seen what happens when the highest authority in the land not only condones but encourages lawlessness, and it makes my heart sick that this is happening in my country. 

There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that Cadet Bonespurs and his ilk will try to steal the election if it doesn’t go their way. They’ve spent months eliminating voters from the rolls, restricting voting options in the middle of a pandemic, lying about the validity of mail-in ballots and intimidating voters at the polls. If all that doesn’t work, well, as an acquaintance of mine proclaimed on Facebook, they’ve “loaded their magazines”. Because "antifa".

These are mostly white people who’ve swallowed a load of crap about how their “freedoms” are endangered by non-white people; that’s easier for them to believe than that they’re the buggy makers in the age of automobiles and they should adapt to the new. No, they want the planet to stop whirling, and return to the days when they were told they had it made, and the world was only right when they were running things without any objections or criticisms from their inferiors.

They view “equality” as a threat, because—like Bonespurs—they see everything (including freedom) as zero sum. Whatever anyone else has means less for them, and they’re not having it. They believe this is their last chance to right the course of the country, and it’s making them desperate. And we know what desperate people do. Especially if they’re packing military-grade firearms and are egged on by the mouth-foaming bluster of a man whose ill behavior they’d not tolerate in their living room for longer than eight minutes without bitchslapping him.

As long as he’s in the White House, not their house, however, he’s telling it like it is, and owning the libs. He’s their last, best hope, and that makes them all pathetic. Even with their armory.

Well, so what to be grateful for today? What?

People have been standing in lines for hours during the past few weeks to cast their votes. I’m deeply grateful for them.

People have been helping and encouraging new citizens and young people to register and vote. You guys totally rock!

Lawyers have been filing suit in every possible jurisdiction to block Republican efforts to make non-Republican voting impossible. I love you guys, and I’m proud to support the ACLU.

Companies and organizations are working tirelessly to hunt down and prevent foreign interference in the election. One of them is my employer and I cannot tell you how grateful and proud I am to be a part of that fight against cybercrime and cyberespionage.

This is going to be a rough week; we cannot expect Bonespurs or the Repugs to take the civil or decent route whatever happens. I admit—I am scared in a way that I’ve never been before. But I’m thankful that there are those who are standing up for the values this country has aspired to for nearly 250 years. I hope to God we can hold the line.