Continued Confessions

Of various types . . .

As a child in England, my favorite sweeties were licorice all sorts. But within the box, I ranked them from best to worst, which didn’t mean that I discarded any of them. I ate the favorite ones first then continued to the last one left. But I do admit that I occasionally left my least favorite ones for my sister. And I still remember which ones those were—the sort of hard jelly buttons covered in brittle specs of colored sugar.

And this memory occurs because I spent yesterday again glued to the screen from roll call to denouement while the House of Representatives put into place an almost completely unknown Speaker—everyone’s last choice, I fear. I knew from the beginning that something ominous was on the way when I heard so many members of the body addressed as Mrs. Wasn’t that why Ms. Magazine was started? To erase the differentiation in marital status that only women had endured for centuries? The fact that so many Republican house members allow themselves to be so designated turns my stomach. I only wish the occasion had been at least sweet going down; but unfortunately I still have the sour taste of disaster lingering this morning. And besides gender equality out the window, the newly anointed Speaker took to the podium as though he were at the altar, offering us salvation from our wicked ways. And don’t get me started on the sycophant traitor to her gender who has risen so swiftly through the ranks that she is now the mouthpiece of lies.

I was not raised in a religious background, but I occasionally accompanied friends to their various houses of worship. I sometimes thought it might be nice to have a rock solid faith in something outside of myself and the concept of the higher power in 12-step programs can be translated into Nature for those who have no formal religion. I have grown to realize that I do indeed have the underpinning of faith in my intelligence and ability to think through abstract concepts and arrive at my own survivable reason for being here. My darling Mum was sent to a Catholic boarding school because her mother was cheap and relatively unloving, I believe, so Mum had a healthy skepticism after watching the nun’s antics. She was determined that her girls would think for themselves (although I must admit that I heard Mum on more than one occasion utter “God, give me strength” when one of us was particularly naughty). But I digress. My firm conviction is that America was founded on the separation of Church and State. We are perilously close to commingling these entities in the absolutely worst way, starting with the subjugation of women.

While watching politics unfold is mostly a spectator sport for me nowadays, I have been involved as a moderator in local elections and know full well the importance of each and every vote. It’s time to get back to the granular level of door-to-door proselytizing!