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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ The emailer wrote, “Will you represent me on a little, little deal, please, please, please?” My response was, “There’s no such thing as a little deal and there’s no amount of begging that would make me do it.”

~~ I gave a handmade gift to someone while no one else was around. However, she left it in view and a stranger (to me) found out I’d made it. “Will you please make me the same thing?” she asked. I couldn’t have been more flabbergasted if this previously unknown person had asked me to give her a pint of my blood and a check for $10,000.

~~ I’m always trying to learn new words. This week I saw Vlad Putin’s ways described in a NY Times’ article as “revanchist.” I got the gist of it in context but didn’t recognize a Latin or Greek root. I suspected it might be French, but that’s not in my wheelhouse, so off I went to my dictionary. My search led to revanchism: from French revanche, "revenge,” a term used to describe a political will to reverse territorial losses suffered by a country. Spot on, NYT!

~~ I have this lovely greeting card display that has hung in my office every year for at least 30 years. The cards I receive are stapled to the ribbons, and many years it comes unhooked from the weight of all the cards. Hanukkah came and went without a single card this year, so I took it down and put it away. (This week, a late Hanukkah card arrived as did a few Christmas cards and a solicitation dressed up like a 2016 calendar from a former colleague looking for referrals.) Gone are the days when I received newsletters from former clients with pictures that show how families have expanded and grown up. There are no more invitations to attend special Christmas celebrations with congregants of churches I represented. No more cheesecakes, fruitcakes, and rum cakes. No more bottles of wine and poinsettias. My retirement from law coincided with a decline in old-school card mailings, and it halted the flow of thoughtful things I don’t eat or drink and have to keep away from my dogs. Wait! I think I forgot my original point, which was… oh, never mind.

~~ CNN is a news organization, right? So how come one of its news anchors moderated the debate but didn’t call any of the GOP candidates on their loose (if any) grasp of facts? How could I trust Wolf Blitzer’s delivery of facts and figures at the anchor desk when he just stands by as candidates say 10 million when the truth is 1.3 million, or that generals retired for being blunt when they actually resigned for giving away classified material to a mistress or blabbed to Rolling Stone magazine and undermined troop morale? Is CNN admitting that they aren’t a news organization during debates, just circus ringleaders and commercial delivery platforms? What a load of crap.

~~ Speaking of crap, it seems to me that any moderate GOP voter (though, seriously, where’s the moderation in being anti-women, anti-equality, and anti-science) would go nuts letting a town like this help mold your presidential candidate: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/12/17/upshot/how-a-quiet-corner-of-iowa-packs-such-a-fierce-conservative-punch.html?ref=todayspaper&_r=0.  They care more about repealing a woman’s right to choose and a gay couple’s right to marry than they do about improving our country and keeping us safe. That’s what makes the USA so great and so scary at once: you’re a patriot if you foment hatred while armed to the teeth and I’m labeled a radical because I believe in equal rights, reproductive freedom, and a living wage.

~~ Hey, Chris Christie: its 2015, dude. Moms work, too!

~~ I’m going to get emails for sure about what I wrote. I get them from readers who chide me when I fail to rant about anything on a given Frida, and I get berated for being “too liberal,” “too leftist,” and (only once) “un-American.” Who cares? Until those rural Iowans and the Trump jackals take over the country, I’m still free to spout off about respecting science and human dignity.

~~ Two weeks ago, a woman at yoga asks, “Are you Emily ____'s sister?” No, why? “I see a resemblance.” Two days ago, Emily signs in right before me. She’s easily six inches taller than me, 30 years younger than me, has wavy hair (mine’s straight), and a complexion that says Mediterranean where mine proclaims Eastern European. Maybe all my mirrors are rejects from carnival funhouses?

Have a great weekend!
J!-E!-T!-S! JETS! JETS! JETS!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!

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