No Telling

That Genie Won’t Go Back in the Bottle

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I’ve seen and heard an awful lot of hate lately, and it worries me. It should worry all of us.

John McCain made an attempt yesterday to quell a bit of that, but the attempt is late and doesn’t square with his campaign message. He’s between a rock and a . . . well, rock. One one hand he’s got to make Obama out to be the devil, and on the other – not devil enough to assassinate. Yes, that’s a strong word, but some folks out there are riled up and the Crowd is starting to sound like a Mob. Some people believe anything you tell them, and once they become suitably inflamed they don’t much like being told the devil’s not quite as bad as all that.

You don’t have to use a podium and a large hall to incite folks, either. I live next door to a sweet elderly woman who’s cornered me several times in the yard to discuss “that HUSSEIN Obama” while her nervous little dog pees in my grass. She’s convinced he’s a Muslim/terrorist/A-Rab/communist/Antichrist, and she’s genuinely afraid. Stirring up fear in people is one thing, but frightening old neighbor-ladies is an unforgivable sin. I try to avoid her on Wednesday nights after Bible Study and – of course – on Sunday evenings when her conspiracy fears seem to be most feverish. She’s never attended a political rally and probably never will, but that doesn’t stop her from knowing what she knows. She may watch FOX News, but she gets her real political information from the good people at church.

That, my friends, is a genie that can never go back into its bottle.

The Wednesday Night Bible Study group my neighbor-lady commiserates with will never cause a harm. To anyone. Ever. But there are those out there who who might. There are those out there who have, actually. Arkansas has its fair share of lunatics and I’m sure every other state can say the same.

It all goes back to my teaching mantra. I tell my students that in their essays and in life, the most important thing they will ever get right is to Know Their Audience. Words are powerful and require responsible wielding. I also tell my students that what they don’t say is just as important as what they do say. Just ask those folks up the road who were around when Faubus closed the schools. They’ll tell you all about the incendiary nature of irresponsible words and silences.

Working both sides of the aisle is going to be an even trickier business now, because McCain also has to work both sides of the pew as well. “Country First, “senator. Country. First.

Vintage Writing Keepsakes, because I’m Sick of Talking Politics

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I believe it’s time for a political break. The whole mess has put me in a sour mood and I’d rather talk about writing goodies. So here are a few vintage writing keepsakes I’ve been collecting while on my tiny address book binge. I can’t help myself, really – they’re cheap, easy to find, and a complete delight to actually use. The lovely embedded abalone memo book with pencil above is my absolute favorite, and it only set me back about $4.00 on Ebay.


Oh, you can spend a fortune on the real McCoy sterling silver keepsakes, but I’m all about the cheap brass or tin variety. The memo covers are always just this side of classy and don’t seem to tarnish or wear in an unattractive way. The delicate brass pencil is a bit of a problem, though – I can’t seem to find the right size lead. It has to fit perfectly. The whole thing is 2 1/2″ by 4 1/2″ and finding little replacement notepads is no problem at all. It doesn’t appear to have been used much, if at all. only one piece of the original paper is torn off. This little keepsake must have lost it’s initial luster quickly for some reason.
There’s nothing quite like jotting a little here-and-there note in this compact keepsake – I’ve had to get over my post-it note brainwashing, though. It’s embarrassing trying to stick a note that simply doesn’t stick.

This little notebook is the same size and weighs almost nothing. It’s made completely out of cheap tin, cost all of $2.00, and I couldn’t love it more. The name “Evelyn” and pieces of an address in Pennsylvania are hand-etched on the inside cover, and it looks like our girl made her own notepads out of scratchy rag paper, cutting each page by hand and fastening them together with a staple.
This one wasn’t a throwaway keepsake at all. I’m guessing Evelyn had this for quite some time, writing lists and addresses and directions and things to remember. I’m also guessing Evelyn in Pennsylvania was quite proud of this sweet little memo book and might have made a modest public showing of pulling it out to make this note and that. In rooms where all the girls have ornate sterling, it wouldn’t work. But in a world of women with no silver memo books at all – tin or otherwise – Evelyn would be quite a hit.
My grandmother told me once that if your pearls aren’t real, you must either have an electric smile or a very fast walk. I’ll bet Evelyn had a winning smile.

Losing Our Way

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My God. Between the Wall Street golden parachuting and the tiresome Dance of the House in D.C., between posturing politicians and winking ambition, there is Addie Polk.

(CNN) — A 90-year-old Akron, Ohio, woman who shot herself as sheriff’s deputies tried to evict her from her foreclosed home became a symbol of the nation’s home mortgage crisis Friday.

Fannie Mae foreclosed on the Akron, Ohio, home of Addie Polk, 90, after acquiring the mortgage in 2007.

Addie Polk is being treated at Akron General Medical Center after shooting herself at least twice in the upper body Wednesday afternoon, her city councilman said. U.S. Rep. Dennis Kucinich, D-Ohio, mentioned Polk on the House floor Friday during debate over the latest economic rescue proposal.

“This bill does nothing for the Addie Polks of the world,” Kucinich said after telling her story. “This bill fails to address the fact that millions of homeowners are facing foreclosure, are facing the loss of their home. This bill will take care of Wall Street, and the market may go up for a few days, but democracy is going downhill.”

Neighbor Robert Dillon used a ladder to enter a second-story window of Polk’s home after he and the deputies heard bangs inside, Dillon told CNN affiliate WEWS-TV in Cleveland, Ohio.

“I just thought she may have fell or couldn’t get up or something,” he told WEWS. “I didn’t know [she had shot herself] until I got in there. And even when I got there, she was breathing, but she wasn’t saying anything to me. I knew she needed help then.”

Dillon said he saw blood when he put his hand on Polk’s shoulder.

“There’s a lot of people like Miss Polk right now. That’s the sad thing about it,” said Akron City Council President Marco Sommerville, who had met Polk before and rushed to the scene when contacted by police. “They might not be as old as her, some could be as old as her. This is just a major problem.”

In 2004, Polk took out a 30-year, 6.375 percent mortgage for $45,620 with a Countrywide Home Loan office in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. The same day, she also took out an $11,380 line of credit.

Over the next couple of years Polk missed payments on the 101-year-old home and in 2007 Fannie Mae assumed the mortgage and later filed for foreclosure.

Deputies had tried to serve Polk’s eviction notice more than 30 times before Wednesday’s incident, Sommerville said. She never came to the door, but the notes the deputies left would always disappear, so they knew she was inside and ambulatory, he said.

A recent Akron City Council study identified a number of lenders whose practices it deemed predatory.

“I get a lot of calls about this predatory lending where people are elderly and they’re probably living on a fixed income and they get somebody to give them some money,” Sommerville said. “Then they get in a situation where if they miss a payment they lose their house. I don’t think people quite understand what happens.”

The city is creating programs to help people keep their homes, he said. “But what do you do when there’s just so many people out there and the economy is in the shape that it’s in?”

Many businesses and individuals have called since Wednesday offering to help Polk,
Sommerville said.

“We’re going to do an evaluation to see what’s best for her,” he said. “If she’s strong enough and can go home, I think we should work with her to where she goes back home. If not, we need to find another place for her to live where she won’t have to worry about this ever again.”

He said that by the time people call for help with an impending foreclosure, it’s
usually too late.

“I’m glad it’s not too late for Miss Polk, because she could have taken her life,” Sommerville said. “Miss Polk will probably end up on her feet. But I’m not sure if anybody else will.”

I’m ashamed of us. One of these suave and semi-suave candidates had better do something for Addie and those like her, and be damn quick about it. And sincere. Fix it on the quiet and don’t use her as a campaign commercial. Just save her because it’s the right thing to do when our moral compasses have forgotten true north. Let Addie Polk finish her life in dignity.

UPDATE! Just found this (10/4) on CNN.com…

Fannie Mae Forgives Loan for Woman Who Shot Herself

I’m sending Mrs. Polk some flowers right now.

Note on the Fridge to Moleskine

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Oh, dear. For the past couple of months I’ve been frantic for more Extra Large Ruled Cahier Moleskine notebooks, and you appear to have ceased production. Can’t find them anywhere – not even the sad Kraft paperbag covered ones.

This simply won’t do. I’ve a special fondness for these notebooks – EXACTLY these notebooks – and it frightens me a little that I may never see another one. Sure, I know you make scads of other sizes and strange gridded things, but my level of desperation for the lovely lined beauties has made me look elsewhere for scribble notebooks.

Elsewhere, I tell you. And it’s not a pretty experiment.

Ladies – you know what it’s like when you’ve got to find a new lipstick, hairspray, shampoo, whatever? We buy and buy brand upon brand, always finding something that’s almost right, but never quite what we’re looking for. Countertops and make-up cases groan under the weight of unused products. Same with the Moleskine.

Apica, chemistry notebooks, cute composition books, expensive leather journals from miscellaneous book stores – they’re all functional and in their own ways a delight, but they’re not the Moleskine’s that slip perfectly into my purse, the ones with the flexible black covers, the ones with the perfect line spacing on exquisite paper.

Please let us know soon the true fate of these XL lined cahiers, because scribbling should be near-perfect tactile experience, and I’m sitting here with almost-but-not-quite notebooks.

Thank you so,

Monda
UPDATE: I wrote a pleading email to Moleskine and received this heart-stopping response…
“Thank you for contacting Customer Care. We appreciate your inquiry. However,both the XL Ruled Journals and the XL Squared Journals have been discontinued by the manufacturer. The only XL Journals we have are Plain. We do offer both the Ruled and Squared Journals in both the Cahier Line and theTraditional Moleskine Notebooks in both Pocket and Large sizes. Please let us know if you have additional questions, or if we can assist insome other way.
Moleskines.com Customer Care

Toll-Free: 1-800-808-7714″
Sweet. Jesus. Say it aint so, Moleskine….

Ghost Writing a President . . . or, Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

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You know, I was going to give this political business a much needed rest. After suffering from Post Traumatic Political Convention Disorder (P.T.P.C.D) for a couple of weeks, I thought it healthier to move on to other things – my life for instance, paying my $350 electric bill, selling things on Ebay for extra gas money, teaching students who may very well be the last generation who can afford to go to college – that kind of thing.

But the ugly just keeps getting uglier and I guess there’s to be no relief until the last ballot is counted or stolen.

As if the stock market crisis and Sarah crossing her legs at the knee in front of world leaders weren’t enough, Today’s Salon.com article just put me over the edge. Ghost writing letters to the editor? Color me crazy, but I thought we needed to collectively and individually be real role models to our young people. If you also look HERE, you’ll find the written directives, examples, and talking points for writing your own fictional, heart-wrenching letter to the editor. All you have to do is insert the name of some supporter or other. Are supporters too illiterate to writer their own letters? Looks like the McCain folks think so. Don’t worry, the McCain campaign will take care of the rest. Can you write another one?

I don’t want to hear one more word from that bunch about “values” or “straight talk.” Not. One. More. Word.

The Museum of Happiness

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Jesse Lee Kercheval may very well be my new favorite author. My friend Steph slid this copy of The Museum of Happiness across the table to me a couple of months ago. Like me, she finds too many killer books to read them all in a timely fashion. I love it when the book I put off reading ends up becoming The One.

If you’re a reader like me, story is crucial – but it’s never enough. There must be a poet somewhere inside every great novelist or I don’t stick. That’s Kercheval. The Museum of Happiness is like Henry James meets John Irving and shakes hands with Gabriel Garcia Marquez who’s reading Suite Francaise. This is the book you want to read in one sitting, but don’t because you have to save another chapter for tomorrow.

I’m not giving you a synopsis because I’ll give away something vitally important for sure. That, and it’s late. Just flash on this: a genetic predisposition to webbed fingers and telepathy, carnies, a dead groom, gypsy-child pickpockets, rooms full of hand-made lace, the stock market crash, a cross-dresser in Full Habit…this is eccentricity at its finest, gorgeously written, addictive.

Get up right now and go find a copy of this book. I’d loan you this one, but Steph hasn’t read it yet and, well, it’s hers. I’m giving this one a Full Five Stars. Miraculous, considering how literarily jaded I’ve become.

Note on the Fridge to Governor Palin

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You certainly gave a rousing speech last night. At least I think you did. There was an awful lot of cheering and such, but I’ll admit I was distracted by the camera flashing back and forth from you to your lovely family down in the good seats. As a mother and a grandmother and a voter and a woman, there are a couple of things that concerned me, Sarah.

1. What in the world were you thinking bringing your four month-old child to a loud and late political convention?

2. How is it possible that angelic child slept through the entirely of it? I know babies, Sarah, and most of them aren’t as dandy as yours was when being handed off, person to person, past bedtime and in a room full of screaming people. You must have prayed really, really hard for that kind of peace in the valley. It’s a maternal miracle.

3. Your Iraq-bound son is so handsome and you must be terribly proud of him. He seemed a little surprised by the September 11 date of deployment, though. Bless his heart. I’m sure you two talked about it afterward.
4. Watching your daughter and her beau hold hands was sweet. That poor boy looked like he’d been hit by a truck, and she…well, she just makes my heart hurt. I noticed that while everyone passed the sleeping angel down the row, the infant never quite made it into their arms. Oh, Sarah. I know that was a decision made by some Very Important Strategist, but it was a little unnatural. You’ll have to agree the young couple (when is the wedding, by the way?) do need the practice.

5. Your husband is a cutie. Watch out for those Washington gals, though. Some of them don’t look like Janet Reno.

And my final question/observation…

6. While I understand it’s not terribly Vice Presidential to be holding babies all the time (who is that Very Important Strategist, anyway?) I’m a little befuddled by a woman who’s never seen holding her own newborn. Ever.

Oh, Sarah. Don’t parade your family around if you don’t want us watching. I realize I’m looking at you through bifocals instead of my old pair of Gloria Steinem aviators now, but that’s what happened to a lot of old feminists – they became mothers and grandmothers and realigned a few things. Go on out there and run a country if you must, and more power to you for the effort and all that, just be sure to vacuum up all that cracked glass ceiling before you let the baby crawl on the floor.

Scandinavian Squall

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Gustav means “staff of the Goths.” It’s a little Swedish, a little German, and the name taken by six kings. Very powerful. Everyone gets it this time, I think. As I obsessively watch the Weather Channel and CNN, the empty streets are a good sign. While nothing involving more than two people can ever be perfect, the New Orleans evacuation plan appears to have systematically done what it was supposed to – evacuate. The news is scattered with stories of folks who’ve decided to hang on, ride the thing out, but the pre-Katrina bravado seems to be missing. Many of those choosing to stay are doing so because they feel there is no other choice.

It must be an eerie moment looking out across a silenced French Quarter as the wind begins whistling down the alleys. And the waiting for what happens after. There’s that.

Tomorrow I’ll go find a sandbag or four and try to shore up a low back patio. Gustav’s gift to Arkansas will be a long arm of torrential rain – we’ll see if it’s a hug or a slap across the face tomorrow.

In the meantime, Africa is throwing off storms like warm-up pitches into the Atlantic. I hope Hanna and Ike swing wide and to the right, because folks on the coast have probably lost their sense of humor.

Tomorrow I’ll sandbag and watch the news and the Perfect Grandson will draw a winner for the Ultimate Shelf-Cleaning Book Giveaway. Tonight I’m busy throwing a little Good Juju abracadabra down to Nawlins, even though I throw like a girl. Let’s hope Gustav does, too.