The Democratic National Convention is SO good. Oh my god…what a difference from the RNC.
From Republican Stephanie Grisham, to the roll call, to the Obamas (especially Michelle), it was all so inspiring last night.
This introduction of Doug Emhoff by his son Cole was a highlight for me:
www.instagram.com/reel/C-6tT42AAOk/
76 more days!
Along with about a billion other people, I am very curious who Kamala Harris will pick as her vice presidential running mate. I’m confident that whoever she chooses will be embraced by her growing legions of supporters.
I had been thinking she was going to choose Governor Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania or Senator Mark Kelly of Arizona, but now I don’t know.
Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg has been killing it on the news shows. He’s approximately the same age as weird JD Vance and is also a military veteran with young children.
Also, Governor Tim Walz of Minnesota is really growing on me. He’s another elder GenXer (born in 1964), so I’m predisposed to like him. He gives midwestern high school principal vibes and I think he’d help her out with middle-of-the-road types.
We shall see…
And just for fun while we wait, watch this awesome clip from VEEP.
Related post:
I did a bunch of GenX things last weekend:
1) Went to see a cover band. The band was called Tusk and they are a Fleetwood Mac Tribute band. They were really great musicians and played all the songs really well. It was a beautiful, warm night. I danced and had fun. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours album came out in 1977 and it was my junior high jam. I loved that album so much. I did my majorettes try-out to “Second Hand News.” Hearing it all again, 47 years later, I have to admit, it’s yacht rock.
2) Went to see Fly Me To The Moon in a movie theater. All the movies out this summer seem like they’re for twenty-somethings. This one looked like it was geared for my age group and it was. If you ever drank Tang or Tab, this movie is for you. I thought it was very entertaining. ScarJo’s luminous beauty, the US space program of the 1960s, and a couple of very solid jabs at the Nixon administration were highlights for me. On the downside, the portrayal of the creative, gay movie director seemed like an over-the-top caricature, complete with ascots and limp wrists. Also, the whole plot seemed to feed into the whacko, conspiracy-theory, alt-reality culture we’re now living in.
When we came out of the movie, I had texts from both of my kids telling me Trump had almost been iced. A quick social media search revealed that Trump had stood up after the shooting and dramatically urged the crowd to “fight” and Republicans were blaming Democrats for the entire thing. Conspiracy theories were already in full bloom.
3) On Sunday night, with a growing sense of despair about the inevitability of the United States’ descent into right-wing madness, I happened to watch a Netflix comedy special and it was SO FUNNY. I laughed and laughed. Leanne Morgan was the only female comedian who appeared in the lineup of Netflix specials, so I took a chance on her and I’m so glad I did. She’s exactly my age (born in 1965) and I just loved her references to the 80s and all things wife/mother/grandmother-related. She avoids politics entirely. This bit about Dexatrim being speed had me in tears.
I can’t deal with a group larger than eight for dinner. I’d probably invite a bunch of creative types, especially funny ones. They might be hard to cook for, but the conversation would be entertaining.
Maybe…
Bowen Yang
Barbara Kingsolver (She’s the only guest that concerns me. A Pulitzer Prize-winning writer would be an amazing guest and I’ve read most of her books, but does she watch TV? Could she deal with all these funny people?)
Kate McKinnon
Greta Gerwig
Wanda Sykes
Quinta Brunson
Matthew Gilbert (retiring TV critic for The Boston Globe—I’m going to miss him so much!)
In the past five years or so, I’ve gone back to wearing two-piece bathing suits. I’m not talking French bikinis here, but legit, midriff-exposing, two-piece swim suits—without skirts or ruffles (but with some strategic ruching). Two-piece suits are just more comfortable than one-piece suits and so much easier when using the restroom. I even wear one to swim laps these days.
No, I will not be posting a picture of myself in my two-piece, but here’s Paulina in hers, with both hip-replacement scars showing.
Another thought: If you get HBO Max, be sure to watch Jessica Lange in “The Great Lillian Hall.” It’s such a beautiful performance. At age 75, Lange is better than ever.
What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?
Sometimes you should let go of preconceived ideas of which foods go together and try things that sound weird.
For example, my husband makes (and claims to have invented) peanut butter and salsa sandwiches. I won’t eat those, but I do love cheddar cheese in apple pie. And have you seen Episode 1 of Season 3 of The Bear on Hulu yet? Was that a blood orange reduction and a large potato chip on a seared scallop?!? It looked pretty darn good.
You don’t think of peanut butter and pasta as being a good combo, but this recipe from NYT Cooking is a winner. It’s called “Cold Noodles with Sesame Sauce, Chicken and Cucumbers.” I didn’t have sesame paste (tahini) so I substituted natural peanut butter (as the recipe suggests) and it was good! I will try it again with tahini at some point.
Recipe attached as a PDF:
What are your daily habits?
My daily habit for the last 8 years has been despising Donald Trump with every fiber of my being. I would vote for a corpse over him.
But last night’s debate was not good.
I agree with my old friend Mark Leibovich: It’s time for action.
The fantasy older brother that you wished one of your friends had.
The TV character and the person who played him melded into one indistinguishable heart throb. And he could sing. And his hair feathered. And we loved him.
What does “unplugged” even mean anymore?
I read library books on Libby or Kindle, I swim with my Apple Watch, I meet with faraway friends on Zoom, I go for walks with my phone and AirPods. People even meditate online now.
If the power (and therefore the WiFi) gets knocked out by a storm, I just switch to cell phone data and charge my phone in the car.
If I’m truly unplugged (without electricity and cell coverage), something bad has happened. I’m scrambling for D batteries to put in my boombox, which also gets AM/FM radio. We’re bringing in firewood from the garage and heating water on a camp stove.
In the olden days, “unplugged” simply meant that a band did a set with acoustic instruments, instead of electric. The results were mixed. This one was cool: The Cure’s unplugged “Just Like Heaven” from 1991.
Now that I’m 55+ and have lost several friends my own age to cancer and addiction, I am not picky. I like all my old friends. If I’m in touch with them at all at this point in my life, it means there was/is a real connection there.
In making new friends, I gravitate to people who both listen and talk. And obviously, no MAGA. That’s a deal-breaker.
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