The Mueller investigation

In investigating what, if anything, can be learned from the Mueller report, I discovered that FBI agents do not videotape or record their interviews.  Instead, they file what is called a 302, a paper document summarizing their impressions!  This cutting edge technology was no doubt instituted by J Edgar Hoover, the great blackmailer of presidents of both parties.


In an age when every high school dropout has a cell phone that can photograph any interaction, the FBI files a 302.  Has no one ever suspected that an agent can say whatever he wants on this document, in other words, can lie, and no one can contradict him?  

  The Attorney General should order all agents to videotape all interviews by government agents.

College life in the twentieth century

I went to college in the twentieth century.  They were pretty strict.  One sex dorms, with curfews, which were rigorously enforced.  If there were student organizations, I was unaware of them and didn't participate in them.  There was a student government, but I never knew anyone who participated in them or even voted in their elections.  They were powerless in any case and did not matter.

  There were not many officials in the administration.  Each college--arts and science, art, etc.--had a dean, and there was a dean of students.  I met only one dean in my time there, and that was when I wanted to drop Italian because I was simultaneously taking French and German and it was making me crazy to learn so many languages at the same time.  He gently remonstrated with me, suggesting that there would come a time when I would want to read Dante in the original, but reluctantly signed off on my request.

  Each dorm had a housemother.  Fraternities had them too, but I didn't belong to one.

  Here's how we spent our time.  There were classes all week, including Fridays.  During the week, we students studied, played games like ping pong, gossiped, hung out with friends, and went to the movies.  There were sports team, like football and wrestling.  Weekends we hung out with friends, dated, and drank.  No one coordinated our activities, unless we came to the attention of the police.

But our thoughts were our own.  Yes, you could believe anything you wanted to!   No one sought, in the words of Queen Ellzabeth, to have windows into our souls.

Trying to understand the Mueller Report

It's too much for me.  Trump did nothing we can prove, but he must be guilty anyway. 

  I don't recall when O J Simpson was acquitted of murder, that the verdict was Not Guilty with a Side Order of You Did It all Right.

  I'm also not happy with process crimes, like lying to the FBI about some matter of which you know nothing but you're going to jail anyway. as happened to Scooter Libby.  But that is a side issue.

  The thing that has me gobsmacked is the filling oout of form 302 by FBI agents.  In a day and age when cameras are obiquitous, agents do not record or film their interviews with "persons of interest."

Instead they fill out Form 302, afterwards, possibly with a chisel on a stone tablet.  How quaint!  Or maybe it's on sheepskin.

I no longer expect any government official to do his job.  They get paid for just showing up, doing anything must be contracted to an outside agency.

California dreaming, nightmare division

I just got back from California, aka Democratic headquarters.  Everyone is a Democrat there, including children, pets, and wildlife.  I really felt very lonely.  Wrong--I felt like a criminal.  I actually felt like someone in one  of those science fiction movies who finds himself dropped into a strange new universe which is not subject to gravity

I don't mind being thought crazy, but I  object to being told I have blood on my hands because of maniacs shooting innocent people some place I have never been.  I'm not a second amendment freak, I've never shot anyone with anything, even a slingshot. 

Are all the people in the US delusional?  Or is it just California ?

I miss the old blogwolrd

 I am nobody, coming from a long  line of nobodies, respectable but  obscure, all of whom minded their own business  and did not share their innermost thoughts with anyone.  

  Contrary to this distinguished but uncommunicative heritage, I began sharing my thoughts, ideas, prejudices, and daily occurences on blogger in 2004. For one thing, it was free!

   At that time, the web was full of blogs by ordinary people like me- laymen, civilians, call them what you will-but they had a variety of interests, activities, professions, and were fun to hear from.  I used to have a blogroll, with 18 or 20 names on it, and I enjoyed interacting with them.

 Most of them were amusing, some very talented and witty. I would comment on their blogs, and they on mine.  Comments flew back and forth.  Most people posted every day or two -three days a week.  It was Facebook avant la lettre, but much more interesting.  People did not regularly post pictures of their pets, for one thing.  One really felt connected to fellow bloggers, unlike Facebook friends, who I am sure don't care a straw about me. Nor, to be honest, do I care for most of them,with exceptions.

    I liked to post about my family, growing up, about New Jersey, which I was about to leave or about Delaware, where I was headed,  about being Jewish, and about Mr Charm, my late husband, and his peculiarities.  Books I had been reading.  Weird stuff, and ordinary stuff.

  But what does it matter? That blog world is long gone.   I don't know what happened.  Perhaps the blogosphere was taken over by experts or poisoned by politics.  Or maybe most people had better things to do.  

  I miss my former blogfriends.  I wonder what happened to them, but I guess I'll never know.  Unless they post something on Facebook.

Countertops updated

Apparently countertop replacement requires the skills that Eisenhower brought to the invasion of France.  Materials must be chosen and paid for.

  Then the fun begins.  Your old countertop must be removed.  Including the sink.  Next, special estimators will arrive to measure the size and shape needed, leaving the kitchen unusable and looking like a crime scene..   So no cooking or washing in the kitchen.  If the procedures duplicate my previous experience with contractors, since they have been paid, they will return some time in the future which suits them.  The remote future.

  Some day, if you're lucky, they will return with the new countertop, which you have to pay them to install, or do it yourself.  I can''t picture myself wrestling unaided with a large and awkward  sheet of quartz weighing approximately ten tons, so I will have to wait until they condescend to send someone to install it.

  So I started with new flooring, which does so much for the kitchen, and the countertop returns to the wishlist behind the longed-for trip to Australia.  In short, in Neverland.

Books I like

Since I dislike so many books, people want to know what books I like.  I must like some of them since I waste so much time reading. 

  First I want to mention why I hate writing review of books I like.  I am not sure why I like them, or what about them I like.  When I re-read a book, I find so much in it that I didn't appreciate more.  There are depths in a good book, layers of meaning.  Every time I re-read anna Karenina, I find something new--re-reading  opens up unending new insights and I appreciate it not better, but differently.

My favorite classic fiction: Anna Karenina, Pride and Prejudice, Middlemarch, Great Expectations, anything by Dickens, practically anything by Trollope.  I have no objections to long books, if they are good.


Books I hate is a much longer list: Anything with a political message, particularly progreesive.  Anything "transgressive," anything by "women" writers, published because the author is a woman.  Anything where the characters have winsome names, like Turtle or Tempest.

I like American history, because I am an American and learned something about American history, albeit reluctantly, because I had to,  in school.  Other countries, not so much, because I know so little about them that I can't fathom the background. I would need to know much more, to know where I am. English hisotry, about the Tudors, particularly Elizabeth I.   British and Irish modern history, because I typed so many papers about them when my husband was getting his PhD in British history, and because the Irish are such greeat writers.  I particularly like Conor Cruise O'Brian. 

  I also like reading about musicians, and musical instruments.  I recently read a biography of Maria Callas,  and an auto-biography of Placido Domingo, and one by Julie Andrews.  I recommend them unreservedly. These people knew who they were at an early age and believed in themselves, a revelation to me, who still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, even in the face of mortalitty.

  Music reveals new depths every time. That's why you can listen to the same pieces over and over and find new things to love and admire.

The dog that didn't bark

The Mueller report was a bullet to the brain to the democrats, but unfortunately it takes more than a bullet to the brain to shut up these guys.  Possibly they don't have brains.  Or maybe they are the undead and it takes garlic to silence them.

  In any case, they are a hardy crew, who have the stamina to arise from their graves every four years to vote.  Not like the rest of us, who do nothing useful to anyone and just molder in our graves, taking no part in public discourse.

YouTube fixes my toilet

sorry I haven't kept up with current issues. such as what senior citizen will win the Democratic nomination.  I actually haven't even done my income tax yet.  I've been too busy watching youtube. 

  Ever since I heard a kid say he taught himself to play the tuba on You Tube, I have been fascinated with YOu Tube.  I taught myself tai chi--sort 0f--and practiced singing lessons.  I read about the Nickolas Brothers and the Clancy brothers.  followed the Hedy Lamarr story. 

  But the YouTube videos about toilets have been taking up most of my time.  I have one toilet which stops up regularly, and of course it is the one I use most.  YOuu might think there is not much that can be said about toilets, but you would be wrong.  There are several competing philosophies from people who take toilets seriously.  There are discussions on how to use the plunger properly.   How to keep the toilet from getting blocked in the first place. What substances to use to keep things -flowing. 

  After much waste of time,  I have gone with the white vinegar school of toilet maintenance.  In the unlikely case you have never heard of this, the theory is that the jets get blocked with minerals and will no longer wash away offending matter as they should.  The theory involves pouring white vinegar in the tank, which clears the jets.

  It seems to work, too.  Only don't use too much toilet paper.

So what happened to my new year's resolutions?

I resolved to practice my singing for half an hour every day.  I also resolved to do tai chi for ten minutes every day.Also to work on my painting every day.

  I haven't done any of that.

  I also resolved to replace the kitchen countertop ASAP.  I did not do that either.  I looked into countertop replacement and found that it would be easier to tear the entire house down and start all over again.  So instead I had a kitchen floor installed.  The installers were the Platonic ideal of installers.  The flooring which they replaced was installed by my hairdresser's daughter's volleyball coach's unemployed husband.  And it looked like that, or worse.  And now it is gloriously beautiful.  So beautiful that it makes the countertop look shabby and the walls appear to need a new paint job.

  But nobody's perfect.

Sexy politicians

We certainly have come a long way since Ted Kennedy's affairs were greeted with a wink and a nod.  If that.  Ted was forgiven because of his advocacy of progressive issues.Not issues that would cost him anything financially.  He had fleets of accountants to shelter his income and that of the rest of the Kennedys.  It was always your taxes that would pay for his grand ideas.

  Other politicians come to mind.  Nelson Rockefeller was a Republican, but one who loved to spend the taxpayer's dollar, so he was forgiven for being a Republican and something of a sex fiend. Your daughters would not be safe in the same room with him, but that was their lookout.

 Then there is the hardy perennial, Bill Clinton. Given the evidence, you wouldn't want your daughter in the same government building, even if it was the White House.  Is conduct was shrugged off repeatedly by feminists, because he approved of abortion.

  It's amazing what conduct is unforgiveable .  The requirements are always changing.  It was enough for Al Franken to run his hands suggestively over a poster.  His career was over.  I would be inclined to cut Northam some slack for the photo.  Bad taste is forgivable.  I find his views on abortion morally repugnant, but no one else does.  I would certainly go after his medical license, though.

 

My take on Northam

I know the whole world has been waiting for my opinion of the scandal surrounding the Virginia governor. Well not everyone in the world.  In fact, hardly anyone in the world.  The fact that nobody reads my log is so incredibly freeing.  I can express my thoughts honestly without incurring hostility, or even criticism.

  So here goes my opinion on the Northam sccandal:  I think it's dumb.  Undoubtedly he wore that outfit to a Halloween party and after a few drinks everyone thought it was hilarious. Or even transgressive, but in a good, ironic way. Drunks are easily entertained.

  The problem is Hallloween parties and the fact that people who are presumably adults take them seriously enough to put on costumes and make jackasses of themselves.  In my childhood, children dressed up in costumes and went around the neighborhood begging for candy.  The adult role was to sit in the house and dole out the candy when the kids rang the doorbell.  If the weather was nice, they might even sit out on the porch.  In my opinion, the performed their role superbly.

 In my day, folks, you can attend a party in regular clothes and have a good time.  Actually, people dressed up in their best clothes.  Women wore dressses  and men wore something called a necktie.  Parties are for socializing with your friends and having a good time.  Getting drunk and/or hitting on a member of the opposite sex is optional, and was frowned upon in the best circles.

  When I was a child I dreamed of growing up and dressing up and going to parties or nightclubs.  My role model was Myrna Loy in the Thin Man movies.  You can bet that Myrna did not dress up like Butterfly McQueen.  She wore amazing long gowns and high heels.  But by the time I grew up no one dressed up for parties.  Most people wore T-shirts,  The elegant ones wore T-shirts without slogans.  The getting drunk etc part was still part of the scene.  However they did not dress up as Batman or Cinderella.

  So I say, cut the governor a bit of slack.  Sure he advocated killing newborn babies, but no one minded that apparently. It's just abortion carried a bit too far, and we're all okay with that, aren't we?  The fact that he is dr Gosnell light disturbed almost no one except oddball people with extreme religious views, like Christians.

On reading

  I have to have at least two books in hand--one that I am currently reading and the one i am planning to read next.  i actually prefer to have a stack of unread books in case of emergency. unfortunately i find most books tiresome, which limits me a bit.  i like popular fiction, but the choice has to be well written and have credible characters and action which is not too implausible.  A little bit implausible is okay.  I'm not talking Great Books here. But I don't like to read about superhuman powers, for instance, or plans to blow up the planet. 

  I have tried to read to improve my mind by catching up with the books I didn't get a chance to read;  I was a literature major anyway and stand for Great Literature and culture generally.  I utterly failed to be impressed by most Great Books..  For instance, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.  Don Quixote.  Not crazy about Faulkner, either. 

 .  I like books about American history and English history  and Ancient Rome.  Biographies of great men, but only British and American ones.  I particularly like to read biographies of musicians and musical gossip generally.  I even like to read the notes in music programs.  

Vexing questions

Can someone please tell me the rationale for the continuing existence of Publishers Clearing House?  Nobody subscribes to magazines anymore except doctors' and dentists' offices.  Anyway, thiey no longer even pretends to be selling magazines.  Or books.  Or anything, really.

  So why does this pestiferous organization continue to exist, to broadcast television commercials, and to send out direct mail solicitations.  Why do they still award money to people?  Or are the persons who are televised swooning, shrieking and jumping up and down in their doorways really paid actors?  In short, just what the hell is going on?
  
  While other organizations which have outlived their mission--think Boys Town--have quietly ceased to exist, Publishers clearing House appears immortal.

Modern travel.

A very old friend has died.  This lady and her husband were close friends when we were young parents.  The male half of the team was best man at our wedding.  So we go back a long time.

  It brought back memories of the death of my husband.  He suffered from some neurological disease, and to make matters worse he had fallen and broken his femur.  We hoped against all expectation that he would get better and come home, but that goal was receding farther every day.

  After two years in the nursing home, aka Roach Motel, my daughter in California wanted me to visit her.  He seemed no worse--and no better, either--so I decided to go.

  After an 11 hour trip on United Airllines, I arrived on a  Thursday.  On Friday I was exhausted.  Sarturday morning I was starting to feel like my old self when I received a call from the nursing home that he had had a sudden heart attack and died.

  It was Easter weekend, and there were no flights that day, so I booked a ticket for the next day, which was Easter Sunday.  Then my troubles began.  You can't fly direct to Philadelphia from San Luis Obispo, so I was booked to go to San Francisco, or Los Angeles, I can't remember which.  But neither could United Airlines.  When the flight I had booked arrived, the B team who were in charge on that weekend could not print a boarding pass.  So I was not allowed to board the plane, but there was another plane due to the other city, whichever it was, so they would get me on that one.  But they couldn't, because they could not print a boarding pass.

  All this took a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, yelling and screaming, and agita of the highest order.  Not on the part of the United team, however.  They took it stoically.

  Finally, there were no more planes either coming or going, so someone came and got me and I spent another day in San Luis Obispo. On Monday, I was able to catch a flight which left SLO early in the morning and arrived in Philly at almost midnight. 

  The advantage of this epic drama were that my mind could not linger on the death of my husband, so filled was I with impotent rage at United airlines, San Luis Obispo,  and the State of California generally.

How the hospital killed my father.

  An item on instapundit's blog brought to mind what happened to my 99 year old father.

https://www.npr.org/2018/12/16/677054343/bleed-out-shows-how-medical-errors-

  He was hospitallized because he had had several episodes of losing consciousness.  It was determined that the solution woud be the inertion of a pacemaker so the blood would get to his brain. 

He had the surgery and was discharged from the hospital but got sick again.  Returned to the hospital, where it was discovered that he had been implanted with an infected pacemaker.  So they removed the pacemaker and inserted a new one.  The infection was still in his bloodstream, however, and they discovered that one of the valves in his heart was damaged.

  They decided that they would not or could not replace the valve.  The infection continued and he soon died.

  I know what you're going to tthink, because t thought the same myself:  he was 99 years old, and was lucky to have lived as long as he had.  We could  sue the hospital, for loss of earnings, perhaps? The whole idea was ludicrous.  Nevertneless, he was dead and he was my father.  I thought he had more mileage on him.  Before his recent fainting spells, he had been going to the gym, taking care of himself, and cooking dinner for himself and my stepmother.  He had his wits about him  And we were all sorry to lose hum.

  Could he have lived another year, or three, or ten?  Nobody knows.

  Some slob was careless, and someone died. 

  I asked my Uncle Max, who whas a doctor, "When did doctors start curing more people than they killed?"  He said it hadn't happened yet.

Me at 10.  I find it very hard to upload pictures on this computer.  This is a test.

Lone Republlcan

I joined the Republlican Jewish Coalition because I am the only Repupblican Jew I know, although I have subspicions about the rabbi.

  I was surprised and pleased to receive an invitation to a Chanukah party.  So I went.  I wanted to see a real-live Republican Jew. 

  There were a lot of them.  Most of them were couples, between 55 and 75, and very nice. Thei all pretty much knew each other.   Most from Pennsylvania and New Jersey.   No one from Delaware.  No young people.

  Where are the young people?  If we don't atttract young people, Republican Jews are going to become extinct. Or do the young have better things to do on Saturday night?

My late husband, in 1952, when he was 21, in the U S Army.

Miriuam the Killer

In general, I hate the animal kingdom, and all its members hate me.  Every kind of pest has invaded my space: raccoons, mice and now ants.  A deer almost wrecked my ccar a year or so ago, and squirrels keep eating the bulbs I plant. In general, everything smaller than an elephant is my enemy, and I sm theirs.

  I have ants!  Every year, in the Spring, they invade my house, and every year they are smaller.  The first year, I had normal size aints, about the size of a fly or a little bigger.  The next year, they were smaller.  Those that started the Winter--of all the nerve!--are even smaller.  I suppose that eventually they will be the size of microbes and I won't be able to see them.

  It really annoyed me that they came at this time of year; I consider it unsporting of them.  The antbaits I put out this past Spring are inoperative, and I can't find new ones  in the stores.

  So when I saw a few humdred of them creeping around my stovetop I was so enraged that I picked up the nearest spray can and pumped the contents all over them.  It happened to be Scrubbing Bubbles.  I poured it on all the surfaces of the kitchen, and lo and behold they were gone!  So I have discovered a non-poisonous antkiller. 

  Peace has been reigning for days now.  However, I used the bathroom adjoining the kitchen, and I saw one--just one--on the floor.  So I guess they will be coming back.