Down-Sizing

The giant stuffed Mickey Mouse sat forlornly on the curb outside our house. We’d hung a sign around his neck offering, “Free to a good home.” We had won the mammoth stuffed toy at a charity auction more than 20 years ago. I can still remember the look on the valet’s face as my husband and I worked at stuffing Mickey into the back seat of our sedan before bringing it home to our delighted 2-year-old. But we are downsizing, so it’s time to offload some of our unneeded possessions.

It is a bittersweet process going through your things to determine what you will keep and what you can bear to part with. Sure, there are a lot of household objects without any sentimentality attached to them. I had no trouble getting rid of old coffee mugs or my duplicate cookie press. But going through memorabilia is a lot harder. All the pictures and cards my kids made for me, their little handprint clay creations, awards and ribbons from my previous life: Sifting through these made me smile and even get a little teary-eyed.

The other day I found a box of college papers I’d saved as well as my high school yearbooks. I was actually impressed at my intellectual abilities from back in the day. For instance, I’d written a Freudian interpretation of the novel Jaws that was fairly impressive, if a little far-fetched at times. The shark as a stand-in for the libido? But the yearbook signings were my favorites. Kids wrote the most inane things. And good friends made all kinds of references to funny experiences that I’ve since forgotten. I looked up my photo in each yearbook and remembered how awkward and out of place I always felt. Yet most of the students who wrote in my book said genuinely nice things to me. In hindsight, I probably was not the total dork I thought I was.

Having our kids go through their own things has also been a little stressful. The boys were fairly easy. It took only a couple of hours for each of them to make piles marked, “Keep” and “Give away.” My daughter was another story. She not only has way more clothing than my other kids, but she has also amassed a collection of home decor that could stock a small resale shop. It literally took days for us to go through her things, and we are not quite finished. I knew we were in trouble when she insisted on keeping all the little scraps of paper with meaningful sayings on them that she had taped to her closet door.

Despite the hard work and sadness at parting with some of our things, I have a feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction as my house becomes more streamlined and less cluttered. It’s a good thing to relinquish some of our material possessions. It helps put them in their proper perspective. As long as my children and my husband are happy and in good health, I consider myself the richest of women.

It took about half a day for someone to come by and pick up Mickey. I didn’t see the person stop and load him into their car or truck. But I hope wherever he lands, Mickey brings pleasure to someone else’s young children. It’s nice to think of our possessions getting a new life with a new family.

Down-sizing is not such a bad process. Change is good. And Marie Kondo would be proud!

School Daze

I was out and about early this morning and got to see local students on their way to school for the first day of the year. Whether I saw middle schoolers waiting at their bus stops, faces trained on their smartphones, or gaggles of elementary school children walking with new backpacks slung over their little bodies, I had to smile at this annual ritual, one of which I am no longer a part.

I can remember my own children’s first days of school so clearly: the search for the right school supplies and cool lunch box, the agonizing over what outfit to wear, and both the eagerness and anxiety that accompanied all of us as we faced new teachers, new classmates, and, for me, the reality that with each passing year, my kids were getting older.

Every year when my kids were younger, my husband and I would accompany them to school on the very first day. My husband would always tease them, telling them he was going to give them a big fat kiss right in front of all their friends. When they were little, my kids would hold my hand along the way, and I would carry their giant box of school supplies for them to organize in their cubby or desk once they got there. The PTO would organize light refreshments outside on the patio, and after the school bell rang we parents would linger, sipping coffee and catching up after summers away on vacation.

Nowadays, preparing for the first day of school is paradoxically more complex and easier for me. It entails plane tickets and suitcases rather than backpacks and bagged lunches. And once we see our youngest daughter off at the airport tomorrow for her sophomore year of college, she will be on her own to navigate the move into her dorm room and the start of a new school year. There are definite perks to our children becoming adults!

I loved seeing groups of parents and children walking to school on this sunny summer day. In some groups, the parents outnumbered the kids. It was a treat for me to see the back-to-school ritual and to reminisce about those years that seem to have gone by in a blur. No doubt many of the parents I saw went home or off to work breathing a sigh of relief that their kids were once again going to be spending their days learning and growing – and not home complaining and making messes.

To say that our kids’ childhoods go by in the blink of an eye is a cliche for a reason. So moms and dads, I encourage you to savor all the sweet and crazy moments of school daze. Before you know it, you will be seeing them off to college or planning their wedding. Sure, those moments will be special too. But there’s nothing like your little one clutching your hand and giving you a goodbye hug on the first day of school. Enjoy it!

All the (Bad) News That’s Fit to Print

Every Sunday I look forward to getting the New York Times delivered to my driveway. It’s the one newspaper I still receive in print, and I enjoy turning the large pages and devouring the stories along with my morning coffee and pastry. Last Sunday, though, as I began leafing through the paper, I began to feel depressed. The stories were all disheartening: the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan, raging wildfires once again in California, Republican Jan. 6 insurrection deniers, a devastating earthquake in impoverished Haiti, COVID deaths and fears, severe droughts that seem to presage an apocalyptic future.

It’s not the Times‘s fault, of course. News is news, and by definition, it is almost always about conflict or something bad happening to someone. “Mother of Four Arrives Safely Home from the Supermarket,” after all, is not a likely news headline. Still, lately I feel as if I am witnessing harbingers of the end of the world.

Take COVID, for instance. Despite efforts to get the world vaccinated, misinformation and scarcity in some places is giving rise to variants of the virus that are much more transmissible. Younger people are being hospitalized in greater numbers, and Newsweek just posted a story about an increase in COVID deaths among the fully vaccinated. After more than a year of COVID-related shutdowns, shortages and labor woes, we are seeing nightmare scenarios at airports as people try to deal with delays and the lack of personnel who can help stranded passengers. Parents are going to war with teachers over mask mandates. It doesn’t seem a stretch to picture a world permanently in distress over COVID-19 and other related viruses.

The Times also featured a pictorial history of the January 6 attempt to stop the certification of Joe Biden’s presidential win. It’s hard to swallow my breakfast along with photos of Proud Boys beating cops and white supremacists combing the halls of Congress looking for prey. Worse still was the copy, which described how the Republican leadership has consistently diminished and denied the realities of this threat to democracy. Trump has doubled down on his rhetoric praising these insurrectionists, and the GOP is still too in his thrall (or concerned about his rabid supporters) to call him on his divisive words. Once again, my pessimistic mind goes to an all-out takeover of our democracy by decidedly anti-democratic forces.

Then there is the international scene. Around the world, countries are grappling with COVID-19 while also succumbing to natural disasters, wars, and climate disruptions. Especially distressing is seeing the Islamic fundamentalist Taliban take over Afghanistan again, presaging a return to draconian laws and the subjugation of its women. While I don’t necessarily disagree with Biden’s decision (and Trump’s before him) to withdraw from a fruitless, decades-long occupation of a foreign land, I do feel for the people, who have known nothing but war and terror for generations. I also worry that a Taliban-controlled Afghanistan will become a breeding ground for the next generation of worldwide terrorists.

As if all that is not depressing enough, our world is alternately on fire or submerged in floods, depending upon how climate change has affected a particular region. Rising sea levels threaten many coastal areas, and pictures of people being rescued from their homes by boat give me heart palpitations. On the other hand, areas such as the American West are suffering from extreme heat and drought, and I picture a future of wars over scarce commodities such as water. Meanwhile, there is still massive political resistance to doing anything to reduce the accumulation of greenhouse gases in our atmosphere. I may be joining Elon Musk in his rocket ship to search for a more friendly, inhabitable planet.

Thankfully, the New York Times still publishes its weekly Sunday crossword and acrostic puzzle, both of which have provided respite from thinking about all the ways in which our planet is doomed. I now know that the word yoga literally means “union,” and I’ve learned the preferred spelling of mah-jongg. And maybe today’s news will be a little more hopeful. A girl can dream, can’t she?

Mask Up, People!

It’s back to school time, and that means going to your local Target or Walmart to pick up notebooks, pencils, looseleaf paper – and masks! The opening of this school year has unfortunately coincided with a surge in coronavirus infections, mostly from the highly contagious delta variant that is sweeping the nation. The surge has alarmed governors and school district officials, many of whom have prudently decided to require mask wearing for students and staff as the school year begins.

Enter the protests. A suburban Chicago teen was suspended recently for refusing to wear a mask on the first day of school. Her mother was outraged at this infringement on her daughter’s rights. (“Suburban high school freshman suspended after refusing to wear a mask,” Chicago Tribune, Aug. 15, 2021) Yes, it’s obvious we are turning our country into a police state in which we make unreasonable demands on the populace for the dubious purpose of saving lives.

Let us recall the aftermath of Sept. 11, 2001. After terrorists hijacked airplanes and drove them into buildings, killing about 3,000 people, our stunned and horrified nation agreed to do anything that might lessen the risk of a repeat of such a devastating, if exceedingly rare, incident. Nowadays, before one wants to board a plane, one must do the following: divest oneself of any liquids over 3 ounces in volume; show identification to a TSA agent; take off shoes and jackets, remove electronics from backpacks, and submit to x-rays of one’s person and possessions; and occasionally go through a physical search of one’s person if flagged for random screening. I have never once seen or heard of an individual protesting this infringement upon our rights.

Today we face an unseen enemy that has killed more than 600,000 Americans, yet many people are unwilling to take a few simple and relatively painless steps to prevent further fatalities. For one thing, we have fallen far short of the goal to vaccinate enough people against COVID-19 to develop herd immunity. This puts both vaccinated and unvaccinated people at risk, as variants develop that may become able to circumvent the protection of the vaccine. Recent evidence has shown that fully vaccinated people can become infected with COVID-19. And although the vast majority of those people don’t become seriously ill, they are at risk of passing on the infection to others who may be more vulnerable.

Particularly in schools, we are facing a largely unvaccinated portion of our population. The vaccine has only recently been approved for children ages 12 years and up. And younger children have not had the opportunity to receive the vaccine at all. It only makes sense to require masks in schools to help slow the spread of the virus. But asking kids to put a cotton or paper covering over their noses and mouths during the school day is, for some, a bridge too far.

In the middle of the Twentieth Century, a scourge called polio attacked tens of thousands of children. The disease caused paralysis and death and was the most feared virus of the time. But in 1955, Jonas Salk created a vaccine that was embraced wholeheartedly by a grateful populace, leading to the virtual eradication of the disease. President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was himself paralyzed by polio as a child, led the national effort to rid the world of this horrific virus. There have been similar success stories with other serious viruses such as smallpox and measles.

Perhaps if COVID-19 had primarily targeted our children, our country would have been more willing to embrace a sensible approach to prevention. But this pandemic is not over. And although there is currently no evidence that children are at particular risk from the virus, I think it’s foolhardy to send them back off to school without protecting them and others from COVID-19.

So it’s time to mask up again and continue the effort to get people vaccinated. Marvel superheroes may wear capes; real life ones wear masks!

Guns Blazing

The tragic shooting death of Chicago police officer Ella French over the weekend has spawned many more questions than answers. Why did a routine traffic stop end in the death of one police officer and the serious wounding of a second? The two suspects were apprehended shortly after the shooting, but it remains a mystery as to why one fled while the other retrieved a gun from the car and started shooting. One thing we do know is that an Indiana man purchased the weapon for the two suspects, presumably because local ordinances and/or their own criminal records prohibited them from legally obtaining a gun. (“Brothers charged in weekend shooting that killed Chicago police officer Ella French and wounded second cop,” Chicago Tribune, Aug. 10, 2021)

Critics who point to the nonstop gun violence in Chicago as evidence that strict gun laws don’t work need to acknowledge that the lax gun laws next door contribute significantly to the number of illegal weapons on the streets of the city. According to the Chicago Police Department’s 2017 Gun Trace Report, “Federally licensed firearms dealers (“FFL”) in suburban Cook County and Illinois collar counties, as well as several located just across the state border in Indiana, are the primary source of illegal guns seized in Chicago.” The report also makes a point that should be obvious: “It is self-evident that the availability of illegally circulated firearms in Chicago is directly connected to its deadly street violence. Simply put, each conflict becomes potentially more lethal due to easy access to a gun.”

The alleged suspects in the shooting of Officer French are, of course, the ones responsible for her death, and they must be held to account. But without access to an illegal weapon, the brothers would not have been able to end her life just because she and her partner stopped them for driving a car with expired license plates. I’m sure if you asked most police officers, they would say they’d prefer it if most people did not possess firearms. It just makes their job that much more risky. Ella French died because of our inability to end the American love affair with guns.

I realize that the issues surrounding gun violence are complex. Poverty, mental health issues, and stress all contribute to incidences of violence in our society. There are plenty of law-abiding citizens who handle their guns responsibly. Yet the availability of illegal firearms in Chicago is literally ravishing our city. We won’t stop having these bloody weekends until we as a society demand legislation that truly prevents the flow of illegal weapons.

I pray for Ella French’s family, who are suffering an unspeakable loss. I pray that French’s wounded partner is able to survive his critical injuries. I pray for our beloved city and the countless lives destroyed by gun violence within it. It doesn’t have to be this way. We need the courage to make it stop. Common sense gun laws would be an excellent start.

Traders or Traitors?

As a lifelong Cubs fan, I’m sad. The Cubs organization recently traded three of its star players to various MLB teams. With the departure of hunky Kris Bryant, buoyant Javy Baez, and sweet Anthony Rizzo, the lights of Wrigley Field have been dimmed a bit.

Cubs management argues that with the team’s losing streak and the fact that the three superstars were about to become free agents, it was the wisest move for the team to make advantageous trades before the players left on their own. It’s business, right?

One of the problems with major sports franchises is the conflict between the owners’ desire to make a profit and the fans’ emotional ties to their beloved teams. In 2003, Michael Lewis shook up the baseball world with a book called Moneyball. The premise of the book is that sound business decisions about players in baseball can only be made by using certain metrics having nothing to do with players’ perceived greatness or weakness. The Oakland A’s used these principles to turn their franchise into a winning team.

It might make sense from a financial standpoint to view a team’s roster from strictly dispassionate data. But what makes baseball – or any sport – exciting is the drama and the personalities of the players. Fans don’t buy jerseys based upon metrics. They have their idols, and when those faves leave the team for other pastures, there is a real sense of loss.

Now I’m not naive enough to think that players are not themselves in it for the money as much as the glory. Rizzo indicated in an interview that he felt the Cubs superstars were being undervalued by the organization – i.e., not offered enough money on their contract extensions. (“Anthony Rizzo sounds off on ‘bad breakup’ between Cubs and ‘Big 3,'” Chicago Tribune, Aug. 3, 2021) He claimed that he wanted to be a Cub “for life” but that president Jed Hoyer wanted him at discount rates. Whatever the case, it was depressing for Cubs fans to see Rizzo and the other players knock out home runs for their new teams in their first outing post-Cubdom.

The larger than life figures in professional sports are a huge part of what makes magic to fans. Let’s hope the newbies on the Cubs roster are able to inspire some of the awe and enthusiasm that has been lost by the exit of the “Big Three.”

In the Weeds?

I find it a little jarring every time I drive through the state of Michigan to see so many billboards advertising recreational weed emporia. As a woman of a certain age, I grew up thinking of marijuana as a dangerous illegal drug. Even as I raised my own children, the prohibitions against pot were strong enough to give a person a criminal record if caught indulging in a toke.

In just a short time, weed has been legalized in 19 states and possession has become decriminalized in 26. Although still a violation of federal law, buying, selling and using weed are typically not prosecuted by the Feds, who usually defer to state statutes in marijuana cases. (“Where Is Marijuan Legal? A Guide to Marijuan Legalization,” US News, June 30, 2021) All of this is a far cry from the “Reefer Madness” of my youth.

Back in the day, kids who smoked pot were called “burnouts” and relegated to a class of slacker types who hung out in the school’s smoking lounge with their long hair, leather jackets, and bad attitudes. It came as a surprise to me that nowadays, the high school prom king or Uber-jock could be a weed smoker. Indeed, Michael Phelps’ well-publicized weed habit shows how mainstream the herbal high has become.

Proponents of marijuana claim that it is no more harmful, and in some ways much more beneficial, than alcohol. Certainly there is a higher percentage of automobile accidents caused by drunk driving than by use of weed. And marijuana has been shown to be helpful in pain reduction and other medical use for patients with cancer and other debilitating illnesses.

Still, I’m not yet comfortable with the idea of walking into the Cannamazoo rec weed dispensary and picking up some edibles for the weekend. Throughout my youth, I never tried pot or any other illegal drugs, although I admit to my share of binge drinking back in college. I always had an image of Sean Penn as Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High in my mind whenever I thought of weed use. I also dislike the skunky smell of a burning joint pervading the air.

I guess I’m just an old lady bemused by what the young whippersnappers are up to these days – although weed use tends to span the generations, stopping short of the Greatest one. After all, numerous songs back in the Sixties were thought to be oblique references to marijuana, including “Along Comes Mary” by The Association and even Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Puff, the Magic Dragon.” I had plenty of friends who smoked pot and never judged them for it. But I still can’t help thinking of weed as an illegal drug you have to smoke surreptitiously behind the garage.

I am sure that over time, weed will become a popular, common, and commercially regulated product akin to the bottles of beer, wine, and spirits that line the walls of any liquor store. Who knows? If someone bakes in a brownie for me, I just might try it myself!