David says, “it’s eight o’clock, don’t you want to watch the news?” I tell him, “No, I’m up from the last thing I heard last night, and don’t want to hear anything that will spoil my mood.”
I use the morning hours when I am fairly clear of mind to read or write. Last night, I wrote a list of tasks I must complete today, and need to follow that list. Where does the time go? This week flew by and we had only a few medical appointments. Next week is similar and we VOTE.
Yesterday, as we were leaving our GP’s office, he said, “You can vote on your way home, the polls are open until 8 o’clock.” (He referred to our disability status and expressed concern about our standing in line). I told him we lived in Arlington and the times/dates might be different. I didn’t tell him that although we often walk to the polls, handicapped parking is near the door to our polling place and that every time we vote those kindly Democrat voters in our precinct make way for us and push us to the front of the line.
Some of these voters are older neighbors, mostly active and retired government workers, the rest are young people living in the condos and apartments nearby, immigrants and/or people of color. Many of the younger voters work downtown (the White House and National Capitol as well as Federal Triangle are ten minutes away). Our neighborhood is 100 percent Blue as are our governor, senators, and local elected officials.
I finished reading How the Right Went Wrong by E. J. Dionne and highly recommend it. Yesterday, I began reading The End of the Ottoman Empire: the Great War in the Middle East, by Eugene Rogan. I have read a half-dozen books about WWI since the 100-year anniversary began. This fascinating book adds to my knowledge because it describes how Muslims (Turks, Arabs, Indians and others) were pulled into what supposedly began as a squabble among European nations. The lesson, of course, is that the world and its people have been economically and politically integrated for an extraordinarily long time.. And you cannot roll back the clock. And as wise old Pogo said, we have met the enemy and it is ourselves.
Yesterday, as we left the very empty Italian restaurant where we had lunch, I overheard two men discussing history. My ears perked up and I looked at the men, especially one of them. He caught me staring at him and I said, “You’re famous.”
“I used to be,” he said.
I began narrowing it down…TV, reporter, then looked at him hard and he said “Roger Mudd.”
Whereupon both David and I exclaimed, “Of course.” Living and working in Washington DC for decades, David and I have both have met various reporters over the years.
We were leaving and someone mentioned voting. David says “I’m not voting for that crazy SOB.” Everyone laughed and Mr. Mudd said, “You better watch your language, this is a proper restaurant.” Then the waiter cracked up laughing.