Back on track, I hope

In the weeks leading up to the election, my internet life revolved around a couple of political blogs, with quick visits to Facebook for relief. (Not much relief there, as the cohort fretted as much over the campaign as I did.) As a distraction, I could worry about finances - ugh.

And now the election is over - but we still have a scary economy, and a frustrating interregnum, longest in the civilized world (let's not talk about Zimbabwe, where all parties are trying to sort out an election that happened last spring...)

Meanwhile, I turn to books (see previous post) and music. This fall I'm playing in a community orchestra as well as the Sousa Band. Some weeks that means three rehearsals - band, orchestra, and choir. So far this fall Sousa Band has played a couple of gigs (where we are usually squeezed into very small performing spaces, and it is a distinct disadvantage to play an instrument that you hold out to the side!) We have one more performance before going on winter hiatus. Orchestra and choir concerts are coming up.

My brother and I finally caught up this week. Reason we missed each other at the airport is that he took a different way out of customs in order to change planes. I waited at the top of the stairs where arriving passengers usually appear. Since I hadn't brought my cell phone (and he didn't have the number anyway) we never connected.

Their group had many thought-provoking experiences in India, especially in the orphanage where they did some work, and the "rescue house," a shelter for women rescued from prostitution (where some of the "women" were 10 and 11 years old.)

Their next trip is to Peru. I'm thinking of asking to be the token Unitarian among the Nazarenes.

For a couple of days it has NOT RAINED. Tonight I looked east over the lake in time to see the waning (but still fat) moon come up, bright orange behind streaks of black cloud. For a few minutes it resembled the saggy pumpkins decaying on front steps and balconies around the neighborhood. No time to get a picture - moonrise is swift.

Big anti-prop 8 demonstration in Seattle today. Counter-demonstrators were in place, promising fire and brimstone for sinners, but there were a lot of straight families out to support their gay friends.

On a very important election night...

Polls just closed here, and at 8:02 I heard cheers, boat whistles and even firecrackers. It's New Year's Eve, a few weeks early.

I of course live in a firmly Democratic enclave, something I have thoroughly enjoyed after many years' residence in a Republican suburb (where two or three precincts could have their quadrennial caucuses in one average-size living room!) Now even that suburb is trending Democratic, at least in statewide races - who would have imagined it?

Tonight my only regret is that somehow my brother and I missed connecting at the airport, so I didn't get to hear about his trip to India first-hand. Although there is only one place that arriving international passengers can get to the baggage carousels, we still didn't find each other.

McCain is better than his supporters, who just booed when he said he had called to congratulate Obama. Later, the people at the Biltmore actually applauded. Still, McCain is rising above the level of his campaign. Let's hope the civility continues.

I liked the echoes of MLK in Obama's speech. For those of us who vividly remember 1968, tonight is the kind of leap into the future we never expected to live long enough to see.

Here's a link to a very nice post about voting in person, from my son's blog.

Five days to go -

And I've at least done my part, by sending off an absentee ballot, adding to what is becoming a flood, according to the elections department.

I used to vote in person, but that was when we lived in a suburb across the lake, and the polling place for almost everyone was the school you could see from the deck.

Now that I live in the middle of the city, the polling place for my precinct is a couple of miles away. Go figure.

In the midst of election anxiety, I got a good laugh from this post on Peter Pereira's blog.

Read it and giggle.

Juke box Saturday night...

It's actually the Bose radio that's pouring out those classic "Golden Age of Radio" songs, on "The Swing Years," the Saturday-night program on the local NPR station. If you're out of range of KUOW, the program streams on the web.

It's a good playlist. A little Spike Jones ("The Black-and-Blue-Danube Waltz,") some better-than-average Rosemary Clooney (a knock-out version of "There Will Never Be Another You.")

Now if Amanda, the host, will only play some Blossom Dearie, my evening will be complete!

So much chaos out there that it's hard to settle to a blog post. At choir the other night one woman said her brother-in-law, in Massachusetts, can't decide what is causing him more anxiety - the election, the economy, or the Red Sox!

(As of tonight, the Red Sox are doing just fine. Any good news is welcome!)

Z. reports fall foliage in Connecticut is lovely as advertised. As a New Englander born and bred, she will also be happy about the Red Sox.



Weather is beautiful here, too.

Facebook is much too fascinating at times. Although the fragmentary posts make the average e-mail message look like a full-fledged essay, they can be informative, incisive, amusing, mysterious, or just bracingly silly.

Silly gets you through a lot.

Family is scattered this weekend. Z is at Wesleyan, I and L are in Portland, D is holding the fort on Vashon.

And my brother, a retired nuclear engineer, just called from SeaTac, where he was about to board a plane for London, on the way to Mumbai. His group will spend 2-1/2 weeks working at an orphanage in a smaller Indian city, returning Election Day.

On the way home they have a layover in London that's long enough for an express trip into the city and a bus tour.

In the past couple of years he has participated in projects in the Ukraine (once) and Argentina (twice.) Before that, he and his wife went on a number of church-building trips to Mexico. Now she stays home with the kitty and listens to his stories when he returns.

Here above the lake tonight, it's Sparky the cat, Mae West (singing "Come Up and See Me Sometime") and me.