And the stakes seem absolutely monumental. Not just for the United States, but for the whole world.
The best advice I’ve seen is from my former UU minister, the Reverend Fred Small. He says, “If you’re feeling anxious (or worse) about the presidential election, I recommend deep breaths, meditation, and this video released last night by the Harris campaign.”
He was right. The video makes me feel better. We’ve got some extremely competent and professional women— like Jen O’Malley Dillon and Dana Remus—running the Harris Campaign. They know what they’re doing.
My get-out-the-vote calls went pretty well today. It was actually kind of fun. I talked to left-leaning voters from Pennsylvania. Many had already voted for Kamala and were willing to reach out to friends and family to do the same. One young man from Erie County, PA told me he wasn’t just excited, he was ECSTATIC to make Kamala Harris the next President of the United States.
So why don’t I feel better? Where’s my joy? Why am I SO anxious?
Because I remember 8 years ago…
Here I am in my cute little pantsuit (which no longer fits) on November 8, 2016, heading out to help elect Hillary Clinton as our first woman president. I was so excited and happy. Joyful!
And then….
Utter despair, bitter disappointment, disbelief, and a huge amount of anger at every single person who saw fit to pull the lever for Mr. Grab-em-by-the-Pussy Donald Trump.
Tomorrow (US Election Day) is going to be rough. I’m going to wear my new KA-MA-LA t-shirt and buy some celebratory champagne, but I also have to prepare myself for the worst. I have Hillary PTSD. Of course I’m hoping against hope that it’ll be a Kamala landslide and red states will start dropping early on. (My fantasy is that Florida miraculously goes blue by 9pm.) But that’s probably not going to happen. It’s probably going to be some sort of a protracted nail biter like Biden/Trump in 2020. (It took four days from Election Day for CNN to declare Biden the winner.)
The one and only good thing about the November 8, 2016 election was that Massachusetts legalized recreational cannabis the very same night. And that is the only reason I’ve made it through the past eight years.
May the Trump Era in the United States of America end tomorrow.
I signed up for a two-hour shift making phone calls for Harris tomorrow.
A friend sent this message earlier today:
Hi everyone,
I just finished a get-out-the-vote phone bank for MoveOn.org. It involved asking voters to remind 3 friends or family members to vote. It was fun! Remember this is coming from the person who would rather chew nails than make these calls! It was easy, lots of people answered, most were friendly, many agreed to remind others and one even agreed to volunteer. I had some great conversations. The link to sign up is already below, but here it is again: https://mobilize.us/s/y58Kqy One person said she was definitely voting for “Miss Kamala,” all her family members had voted, but she would remind younger co-workers who might not otherwise vote.
There are lots of shifts left between now and the election, and it’s a great antidote to election anxiety.
Lynn (she/her/hers)
I really don’t feel like making calls, but defeating Trump is my self-professed Number One Objective of 2024. I’ve written more than 30 blog posts focused or partially focused on him. I started this blog nine years ago, exactly as Trump began his ascension. In many ways, he has been hanging over my life and my blog like a dark cloud the entire time.
So I better get off my butt and join my grandmother friends in making some calls to voters tomorrow. We gotta leave it all on the field!
If you live in the US and have some time on Monday or Tuesday, you can use this link (or the one above) to sign up:
OK, I’ve deactivated my Facebook as a first step in trying not to care as much about the election. I’ve never done that before, but apparently it can be reactivated easily. I was just seeing way too many upsetting posts, particularly from feminist groups documenting the horrors that women in the Trump Abortion Ban States are enduring.
Also, I’m done reading The Washington Post. My husband reads it daily, so we won’t cancel it, but honestly, fuck Jeff Bezos. I’m so tired of these asshole white male billionaires and their outsized influence. And while I’m at it, fuck Joe Rogan too. Did you know that little shit is only 5’7”? I am taller than Joe Rogan. And of course, it goes without saying…FUCK ELON MUSK.
Aaaah, now that that’s off my chest…
Back to my efforts to not care about anything other than my own inner circle.
I have some fun things to look forward to:
-Luncheon today: I’m attending a ladies lunch this afternoon. (Actually, I think there’ll be one man there, but he’s cool.) The guests are all church friends of mine so there is absolutely no chance that any of them are Trumpers.
-Babysitting next weekend: My husband and I are going to babysit our adorable, perfect infant granddaughter for a few hours next weekend! I cannot wait to see that little angel again. I can already tell that having grandchildren is going to the absolute best part of being 60+.
-Book group meeting next week: I get to see one of my favorite groups of women. I am so fortunate to have this small group of book-loving friends with whom I can be completely open and always feel supported. (We are reading Solito by Javier Zamora this month and I need to finish it this weekend.)
Also, I had a realization that if Trump wins the election, I’m probably going to seek out a paid position (perhaps a part-time one). I’m going to need something else to focus on, other than the news and volunteering for lost causes. And I think I can still make some decent money in my field, which would mean more resources for the people I love.
My first thought when I saw this post was “no shit.” Do some women actually think they have to vote how their husbands do? (And don’t even get me started on churches. Pastors should not be telling their flocks how to vote. And if they do, they should get their nonprofit tax-exempt status revoked.)
My second thought was “how sad.” So many women are stuck in power-imbalanced marriages and feel they can’t get out.
I’ve been married 31 years and my husband (thankfully) never even entertained the idea of voting for Trump, but we’ve had plenty of other fights. Two things he’s never done is physically threaten me (even though he’s much bigger and stronger than me) or try to control what I do (even though he earned much more money than I did when we were both working).
If you’re being controlled by your husband or boyfriend—either physically or mentally—you should be making your escape plan. I firmly believe that.
And did you see that interview that Kamala did with Fox News? Infuriating! Fuck Bret Baier. Fuck him right in the ass.
I love the ubiquitous clip of Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph saying “sweater weather.” It’s dumb, but it makes me laugh every time. I think it’s because Amy Poehler is using an authentic Boston accent. She grew up two towns over from where I did.
It is, in fact, “sweater weather” in Massachusetts. And I’m very pleased to report that I wore a sweater out to lunch yesterday and did not regret it. Maybe my hot flashes are finally subsiding.
I am continuing to write letters and postcards to help get out the vote in swing states, but that will be ending soon. My extreme anger at the Trump movement has risen to the surface again. I’m really fucking pissed at everyone who voted for him in 2016 and/or 2020, including members of my own family (not my husband or my kids). And I truly HATE all of Trump’s Republican enablers in the GOP. My hatred extends to all the Republicans who don’t support him, but have strategically kept their mouths shut during this campaign. For example, my college classmate Jane Swift (former Governor of Massachusetts) has not said one thing in support of Harris. Fuck you Jane. Nobody cares about your daughter’s engagement ring. Post about something that actually matters. Be BRAVE, like Liz Cheney. Speaking of former Massachusetts Governors, where the fuck is Mitt Romney??!? He should be out campaigning for Harris. Bill Weld has been public about supporting Harris, but unfortunately nobody gives a shit about Bill Weld anymore.
19 more days.
I think I should stop watching the news and just watch videos of cats in sweaters for the next three weeks.
For our October cover image, the illustrator Justin Metz borrowed the visual language of old Ray Bradbury and Stephen King paperbacks to portray a circus wagon on its ominous approach to a defiled Capitol. “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” Bradbury’s 1962 masterpiece, was a particular inspiration; it tells the story of Mr. Dark, who grifts strangers into joining his malevolent carnival. Over the course of The Atlantic’s 167-year history, only very rarely have we published a cover without a headline or typography.
My main thought on the debate is that it’s disgusting that a serious person—an accomplished woman of substance—would have to share the same stage with a criminal—a lying sack of shit. He doesn’t deserve to lick her shoe.
The fact that the GOP has allowed this is unconscionable.
Please enjoy this free gift article from my old friend Mark Leibovich of The Atlantic. He sheds some additional light on the spinelessness of Republicans.
Last night I was on a boat, in my pearls & chucks, with a bunch of people who didn’t seem to care that history was about to be made. We saw some lovely views of Boston.
Thank goodness I made it home in time to see her speech live.
I truly felt like I was experiencing history in the making. I mean, come ON. She was phenomenal. Many tears were shed.
How could any American not choose Kamala Harris to lead the United States forward over the alternative—whose name does not even deserve to be in the same sentence as hers.
I am beyond excited that my granddaughter will be arriving into this new world, filled with hope and possibility.
Here I am earlier in the day yesterday with people who do care, very much, about what happened last night. We were thrilled to have a special guest with us. Funny, she didn’t seem nervous at all about the huge speech she was about to give.
“And to be clear, my entire career, I’ve only had one client: the people.” ~Kamala D. Harris, Democratic National Convention, 2024
I wasn’t going to respond to this prompt, but then thoughtful posts by Singing Gecko and Books by Asher got me thinking.
Growing up in the 70s, kids (mostly boys) were constantly coming up with cruel nicknames for classmates, usually other boys. However, girls were not always spared. A couple of boys decided to call me “Popeye” in 5th or 6th grade because of my large eyes. I was so upset about it. I cried and cried. I think my mother finally intervened and spoke to a teacher (which was not her usual style), after the typical advice given to girls back then did not work: “They’re teasing you because they LIKE you” (worst advice ever!)
These memories made me think of the question Kamala Harris has been posing: What kind of a country do we want to be? It’s actually a great question.
Do we want to go back to the time when casual bullying, based on appearance/race/sexual orientation flowed like water from the tap? (If you grew up in the 70s and 80s, you know what I’m talking about.) Or do we want to live in a country where differences are celebrated and everyone feels included? DEI (short for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) should not be used as a slur. And it makes me sick that it’s being used that way against Harris.
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