Famous among dozens
My “Venus” razor falls out of my suitcase. Bryan retrieves it from the back seat and holds it like a switchblade.
Him: I’m gonna cut ya!
Me: The pink razor is not as threatening as you might suppose.
Him: Boy, boy, crazy boy, stay smooooth boy!
Me: Got a razor in my pocket…
Him: … you’re silky smoooooth boy!
Me: Lather up! I’ll make you look like a schoolboy!
Him: Just keep it smooth boy…
Both: …reeeeeal smoooooth.
L: Everyone’s getting into fire hooping.
M: It’s San Francisco, throw a rock and you hit a fire dancer.
J: It ricochets off and hits a guy in a leather cop uniform.
M: Then it bounces and hits some guy on stilts.
We attended Senator Kerry’s concession speech inside Faneuil Hall. It’s a relatively small space, so there were masses of people outside pushing to get in. Everyone was upset and eager. It was incongruous, like a very aggressive funeral.
The election left me feeling blindsided and bewildered. I was angry at more than half the nation. But the senator said something that day that I’ve always believed, and that I’ve thought about a lot since. He said:
“America is not only great, but it is good.”
Bryan and I flew home separately, and as my plane flew over all the states between Massachusetts and California, I spent a lot of time looking out at the lights below me. I felt a great tenderness for each family behind each light, and–despite my frustration–I know all of us are doing our best.
I keep hearing that we are a nation divided, and I’ve certainly experienced that in the past few days. What I hope is that we can begin to talk about what we share: a flag, an anthem, a land, and the good fortune that is ours by right of citizenship.
All of us want our children to be safe, and we hope each generation will have a happier future than the last. All of us want peace, and security, and time to spend with the people we love.
When we have the freedom to say whatever we want, it is no surprise that we disagree with one another. What is remarkable is that we agree on so much. What we have agreed, as a people, is that our union is more important than our opinion.
May our opinions shift, and our nation remain steadfast.
Sorry for the silence, I’ve been celebrating Halloween excessively. Also, I just arrived in Boston where everyone is going crazy with election-night party prep. I will be out in the cold with thousands of people who will either be giddy with relief or completely inconsolable. Today gives new meaning to the phrase “anxious anticipation.”
If you haven’t voted, please vote. If you’re not a United States citizen, any chance you could throw some good thoughts, well wishes, or fervent prayers our way? Thanks.
Scenario: The best parts of a conversation overheard in Starbucks. An older Indian consultant reviews his findings with a younger man who is a manager. The older man talks very loudly, and the younger man nods.
“You need to spend more time with your employees. You have to go to this wheel spinning class everyone is attending, know what the buzz is about. Pay more attention. Otherwise, you will get sunk! You will look a fool.”
“This guy, he is a very mature guy. You say, “these are the parameters, this is when I need this,” and it is done. He is measured; he thinks things through. There is one obstacle to our success. It is called haste. And haste, as we all know, is waste.”
I’ll be the one with icing on my face.
Him: She just wants to be loved.
Me: Everybody wants to be loved.
Him: I want to be feared.
Me: Good to know.
This weekend, I actually paid to see the new Jennifer Lopez movie, and then snuck into the Hillary Duff movie (which is surprisingly easy when you and all of your cohorts have been old enough to drink for a decade or so).
The first movie made my brain all gummy and warm. Half way through the second movie, little bits of my grey matter had liquified and begun to slip silently from my ears.
Me: I feel cute today.
Him: Yeah.
Me: Please supply commentary.
Him: Baby, you look so cute today!
Me: Thanks! You look cute today too.
Him: Thanks!
(pause)
Me: I like being married to you.
While in D.C., we took a tour of the National Building Museum, which was having an exhibit on concrete. The exhibit was surprisingly fascinating, in part because our tour guide was the curator who put it together. Near the end of the tour, he said we were going to look at examples of “the holy grail of concrete, which is, of course, transparent concrete.” Of course.
Anyway, he then showed us various examples of light-conducting concrete, of which this was my favorite.
Mighty Girl 