Thank the gods and goddesses.
Thank you, America.
Thank you to everyone who stood in line for hours to cast his or her vote.
Thank you, everyone who said they "don’t vote" but "had to" this time.
Thank you to Barack Obama for rallying this nation to remember our unity and power as citizens. But mostly, I thank President Elect Obama for going out of his way to bring those who did not “earn” his vote, that he respects their opinion and will be their president, too.
It’s easy to gloat. But it’s much more helpful to live by example. There are no losers this time. Not unless we alienate those very people who most need our support: The Republicans and other parties who may not fully understand Obama’s Blueprint for Change. (You can download it here. Or by visiting http://www.barackobama.com and downloading it from his site.)
The point is, my fellow Yankee Doodles, by electing Barack Obama as President, we've taken a very large step toward redeeming ourselves in the eyes of the nations whose respect we have lost over the years. We have said yes to self-respect as a nation, yes to the idea that we are responsible for each other's well-being, and yes to an end of the overpowering glare of corporate greed and corruption.Look, I was a proud Libertarian for many years*. My thought was that government should stay out of my personal and professional life. Why? Because a corrupt government (and aren't they all?) would take away my right to express myself; earn the money I wanted; marry (or at least legally recognize) the person of whatever gender I fell in love with
; eat, drink, smoke what I chose to; create art I believed in...
And all that is true.
Libertarianism requires a lot of faith in the people's good will. The idea is that we should be free to choose any lifestyle we wish without government holding us back. However, if you do harm to others, harm will come to you in the form of punishment. But what we've seen with this recent economy fiasco is that unchecked capitalism can and most likely will screw over the people as greed takes over the human spirit. Perhaps a Libertarian government would have handled this problem differently. However, it may still have happened.
It occurred to me that the Democratic ideal is similar to the Libertarian ideal in that the government should protect and serve without corruption. Right now, there's a possibility that there is a future where we can believe in our government, and trust that it has our best interests, civil liberties, and individual freedoms in mind. Not just for people in a certain tax bracket or people of a certain religious belief, but for everyone.
Incredible.
As for the cries of "Socialism" that we heard so much from Republicans over the last few weeks? To those who are afraid, I ask this: What is so wrong with compassion for your fellow man? If it's your hard-earned money you're worried about, what do you think this government bail-out is? It's welfare for the wealthy. It's our money that got lost...and now it's ultimately our money that will be used for (or at the very least affected by) the bail-out. Personally, I'd rather contribute to national health care than some investment banker's yacht payments.
Here's my idea: Spend the next 74 days before Obama's Presidential inauguration** listening to "the other side." Read Republican blogs and post to them positive messages of unification. Remind Reps that we are in this together. Listen to all sides of the argument and remember the big picture: We are all human beings and we all love this country.
Let the healing begin. Goodness knows we have a lot of it to do.
* Find out where you stand by taking this test. No longer quite Libertarian, I currently rank in the same place as His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Figures.
** Click the link to see my silly countdown clicker.
As promised, I’m posting the speech I gave before the final 2008 Presidential Debate on October 15 at Hofstra University in Long Island.
Paul and I arrived early, sharing a cab from the train station with two suited lads of no fixed political leanings (at least none that they cared to relay). The cabbie, however, was decidedly “Pro-bama,” and repeated a few impromptu mantras as we drove like, “Less money for war, more money for programs.”
When Paul and I reached the Public Area where the speakers were gathered, we found that it wasn’t nearly as crowded as we thought it would be. There was a cheerfully rowdy group of Pro-choicers at the front. Lingering in a pace-y cluster behind them were about four priests and a handful of Pro-lifers.
Besides the cops that were dotting the periphery of the area, the few staff members that were manning the platform and microphone, and a tall African-American man (with his three kids) who was taping all the speeches for his own records, it was just Paul and me.
By the time I got up to speak (I offered to go early since they were ahead of schedule), I had lost the Pro-choicers and was now preaching to a very different sort of the converted. But that’s what I wanted, anyway. Although it would have been nice to get a few cheers of encouragement. As it was, the only cheer I got was from an immediately bashful woman who whooped when I mentioned the name “Sarah Palin.” 
I’m not sure I made a difference. 
Doubtful. But maybe one of those Christian Right folks remembered a little something of what I said when they took their morning shower the next day…and then immediately forgot it. But we do what we can do…So, here’s the speech as it was read on Wednesday night:RECLAIMING AMERICA FROM THE CABINET OF OZ
Thank you to Hofstra University for offering the public this space and opportunity to gather and speak during the final Presidential debate. My name is Rachel Astarte Piccione. I am a writer, peace worker, and president of gentlefish productions, a company that provides writing services for globally conscientious businesses and individuals.I am not necessarily pro-Democrat or Pro-Republican. I am, however, honored to have been born in America. Our nation’s diversity and tolerance has always made me proud. But things are changing. I’m here today because I am afraid. Not of the threat of further terrorism or even the state of our suffering economy. I am afraid that the intelligence of the American people is being insulted, and what’s worse, we’re letting it happen.
There seems to be a powerful group at work behind the scenes of the President and his cabinet. I call this mysterious body of national decision-makers “The Cabinet of Oz.” (Others might call it the Council for National Policy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the CNP only comprises one part.)
What kind of power does The Cabinet of Oz wield? The Cabinet of Oz was responsible for manipulating the last two elections, placing -- and then securing -- George W. Bush into the position of (figurehead) President. The Cabinet of Oz started the war in Iraq instead of smoking out Osama bin Laden and bringing him to justice after the terror attacks seven years ago.
Most recently, The Cabinet of Oz strongly urged John McCain to name Sarah Palin as the Republican Vice Presidential candidate, although she was not McCain’s first choice. And I don’t think they’re done with her yet.
The Cabinet of Oz had Bush feed us eight years of crude one-liners and cowboy politics. What respectable President would actually incite enemies of U.S. troops to attack by announcing publicly, “Bring them on,” as Bush did in 2003? Thankfully, Bush’s time is up, but the Cabinet of Oz is panicking. Someone has to take his place.
As we’ve all witnessed, the media has treated Sarah Palin as though she, and not John McCain, may be the next President of the United States. Because there is concern about McCain’s health, of course the next logical step is to question Palin’s validity as President. “Heartbeat away from the presidency” has become a talking point because of the Palin-as-President scenario.
Made delirious by our incredulity with the fact that someone so impossibly far-fetched could have been tapped as VP –- and possibly President -- we’ve been lured into some kind of 24-hour reality TV freakshow, glued to the television and the Internet, obsessively sucking up every morsel of information we can about Sarah Palin.
There’s a kind of prophetic energy about the press she’s receiving. It’s almost implied that McCain couldn’t possibly make it through a term, so when you see Palin, think President. And that would be fine, if she were an appropriate choice for a running mate. But we’ve seen clearly that she isn’t.
During the Vice Presidential debate, Palin announced she was now going to address “just every day American people.” She gave her shout-out to “Joe Six-pack” and the “Hockey Moms.” She didn’t seem to realize -– nor did she think we’d catch -- that “Joe” and “Mom” are not the only “every day” people of this nation. Is she implying that those of us who are educated, intelligent, and articulate are not “every day” Americans?
When did it become admirable to celebrate mediocrity? At what point did we as a nation decide that it would be perfectly acceptable for the commander-in-chief of the United States military to be just a Regular Joe, and actually proud of it?
The Cabinet of Oz has a clear plan: Talk down to Americans. Create fear in their hearts, then position a sanctioned government as the saviors of the people. Spout patriotic slogans and give Americans a pretty face to look at on the nightly news. Lock in loyalty. That’s the formula for total domination. And it’s insulting.With our collective intelligence being offended on a daily basis, the current political situation has shifted from unfortunate to downright frightening. And if the offenders do take power -- legitimately or otherwise -- what will we do about it?
At what point will we stop sighing about the state of things, turn off the television, step away from the computers, and make a change? What will it take to motivate us to stop shaking our heads and start shaking the earth with our feet and our voices?
This is a critical time in American history, when it is no longer a matter of being a good sport should the opposing team win. Americans are suffering from a collective national Stockholm Syndrome, numbed over the years to a level of resigned complacency.
Demand better. Demand a president who is articulate, intelligent, and compassionate. One who does not condone verbal or physical violence from his or her supporters. Demand a president who can pronounce the word “nuclear.” Demand a leader who does not lie, and whose ethics are unchallenged. Demand a president who will catch us up with the rest of the developed world in the areas of health care, the environment, and the economy, and who will represent our nation honorably among foreign leaders.
This is a new millennium. Greed is out. We’re seeing other nations join together to heal the planet and its inhabitants. At the very least we Americans need to begin by turning our attention to reclaiming the integrity of our fellow countrymen and women.
When you vote on November 4th, make it a vote that shows the intelligence of the American People. Let your vote say that we will no longer be insulted by incompetence and puppetry, no matter how reassuringly provincial the package it comes in. These deceiving personas are not worth our attention, are not acceptable, and they do not belong in our White House. Thank you.
It may seem as though this entry is a digression from my usual theme of single-woman-writer-transitioning-to-married-life, but I can assure you, politics is playing a big part in my writing as well as my home life, so here it is:
I have a strong feeling I'm not the only one whose attitude about Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin is moving from disdain to downright fearful. Whatever did John McCain have in mind when he selected this woefully inept individual as his running mate? I have a feeling it wasn’t just John McCain. He must have been influenced (if not overtly coerced) by the Cabinet of Oz.
The Cabinet of Oz is the name I give this mysterious body of national decision-makers. (Others might call it the Council for National Policy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re only one part.) There seems to be a great and powerful group at work that comprises more than just the President and his cabinet. Maybe we know some of their names (like Dick Cheney), but there are others who we will never know due to their ÜberUltraTopSecret status.
What kind of power do I believe The Cabinet of Oz wields? The Cabinet of Oz was responsible for throwing the last two elections, placing—and then securing—George W. Bush into the position of (figurehead) President. The Cabinet of Oz started the war in Iraq instead of smoking out Osama bin Laden and bringing him to justice after “The Tragic Events.”
Most recently, The Cabinet of Oz chose Sarah Palin as the Republican Vice Presidential candidate…and I don’t think they’re done with her yet.
Have you noticed how the media has been treating Sarah Palin as though she, and not John McCain, may be the next President of the United States? There is concern about McCain’s health; of course the logical next step is to question Palin’s validity as President. But how much focus does this really need? “Heartbeat away from the presidency” has become a talking point because of the Palin-as-President scenario. There’s a kind of prophetic energy about the press she’s receiving. It’s almost implied that McCain couldn’t possibly make it through a term, so when you see Palin, think President.
And that would be fine, if she were a decent choice for a running mate. But she isn’t. What we have here is a good old American reality TV freakshow. Sarah Palin has reached a celebrity status of the same caliber as Americans’ sick fascination with Anna Nicole Smith. Made delirious by our incredulity with the fact 
that someone so impossibly far-fetched could have been tapped as possible VP, we’ve been glued to the television and the Internet—Dems and Reps alike—obsessively sucking up every morsel of information we can about her.
Now that we know, what are we going to do about it?
Palin—while easy on the eyes—is vacuous, inarticulate, inexperienced, untraveled, and closed-minded. And of course she’s power-hungry, but not smart enough to hatch her own plan for world dominance. Just what the Cabinet of Oz would want in the figurehead seat. And they’ll probably make sure she gets in. If not this year, then four years from now, after they’ve let the Dems attempt to pull us out of this colossal economic disaster and fail. Then they’ll train the spotlight right back onto Palin.
Besides the probability that some mysterious group of soulless criminals are the true leaders of our country, there are a few other reasons I believe our current political situation has shifted from unfortunate to frightening now that Palin is center stage.
During the Vice Presidential debate, Palin announced she was now going to address "just every day American people." She gave her shout-out to "Joe Six-pack" and the "Hockey Moms.” What astounded me was that she didn’t seem to realize that “Joe” and “Mom” are not the only "every day" people of this nation. Is she implying that those of us who are educated, intelligent, and articulate are not Americans? Sure, she was appealing to the demographic of the “average” American. But if she were voted into office, she wouldn’t be governing that one demographic. Where are the rest of us in all this? Are we looked over for being “elite,” as Barack Obama has been accused of being? And if we are considered elite because we went to college (and learned something there), what's the point of Republicans rallying to improve the education system? Why not simply lobby for alcoholism training for men and driving lessons for women?
The irony is that Obama's proposed tax plan would actually help the very yokels Palin is talking (down) to. But distracted by the folksy, down home puppet show, Joe and Mom will be voting for a world that doesn't care a whit about them—unless they’re millionaires, in which case they get the metaphorical key to the Executive Washroom. But that’ll never happen.
Here’s the kicker: At the end of the Vice Presidential debate, Palin grinds home the message that she and John McCain will fight for our nation’s freedom. In her words: “We have to fight for our freedoms, also, economic and our national security freedoms….We will fight for it, and there is only one man in this race who has really ever fought for you, and that's Senator John McCain.” Who are we fighting? Who is threatening our national security, exactly? No one started a war with us. Sorry, one terrorist attack (probably sanctioned by The Cabinet of Oz so they’d have an excuse to invade Iraq for oil) does not an invasion make. In fact, if anyone is threatening the freedom of the American people, it’s our current government with their wire-tapping, the Information Awareness Office, and the entire Patriot Act.
I see the plan. Get your people fearful. Make them look to you as their only hope. Spout patriotic slogans and give them a pretty face to look at on the nightly news. Lock in their loyalty. That’s the formula for total domination. And for The Cabinet of Oz, Sarah Palin fits the bill.
From The Boston Globe to The Guardian to The Huffington Post (not to mention a smattering of political blogs and message boards across our fair Interweb), the media has prepped us. So, should the Republicans take this election, don’t be surprised if McCain quite suddenly becomes ill and is locked away in some hospital (à la Arafat/Sharon/Castro), forcing Sarah Palin to carry on for him. If that happens, say good-bye to your freedom, folks. Bye-bye choice. See you, hard-earned cash. So long, civil rights. It’s all over.
And the day Palin gets sworn into office as President of the United States of America is the day I start posting these blogs from Canada.
I just finished making a pasta salad. If that were my only accomplishment today, that would be fine with Paul. No matter how hard I try, no matter how many times I stare into the diamond chips on my wedding band as if gleaning insight from a crystal ball, I cannot wrap my head around that fact.
My job is to run a household. All I have to do is get out of bed, make sure things don’t explode (which does happen sometimes—slippery bottles of Low-sodium V8 juice and falling glass mixing bowls, for example—and then my job is to clean up the explosion), buy groceries at the farmer’s market, make food, deal with laundry/dry cleaning, keep dustbunnies out of the crevices of the apartment and mold from growing in the toilet. There are other “responsibilities,” of course, but I don’t need to go into those here. And besides, I don’t consider them responsibilities so much as sublime gifts from God. (Yeah, I’m talking about sex.)
But wait! Is that all? Really? All I have to do is keep things running smoothly on the homefront? Can someone please point to the day on the calendar when my husband will wake up and look at me and become terminally bored with this automaton of a creature he seems to have found himself married to? Seriously. I want to buy a pretty new frock for the occasion. And book a therapist.
What I’m getting at is this: I am a vital, creative woman with a brain that works pretty well. I’m no logician (ask my first husband), and my eyes do tend to glaze over when the rules of some professional sports are explained to me. I’m sorry about that. I do wish I were smarter about a lot of things. I’m working on it. Meanwhile, I do have a writer’s soul that needs nurturing and exercising. I like to chew on things, wrassle with them in my journals and notebooks, grapple with life dilemmas and find keys to unlock the bliss in others. It’s what I do.
If I cease to do that, a light goes out in me. I feel it. I sleepwalk through my day or quite literally “nap” until 2pm, funked out in some low-grade depression I cannot shake. What to do? Make a casserole. (At least I’m creating something.)
Now, it should be noted that Paul does not expect me to abandon my work as a writer. In fact, he’s been more than supportive in all ways. I gave him the test: “What if you come home and there’s no dinner made because I’m caught up in writing TGAN*?” His response? “I know how to cook, too, you know.”
So, there is no outside pressure for me to stop being who I am. Then what’s the conflict? I’ll tell you: It’s me. The thing of it is, I like running a household. I’m good at it. Besides, it’s so easy to get caught up in the traditional role of wife (even though it is a role I’ve eschewed for decades, and one that even landed me in Jungian therapy to squeeze the dankness out of that aspect of my Shadow).
The problem is now that I get to play house, I can ignore my duties as a creator. The really hard work is not mopping floors or bleaching bath grouting. It’s facing the psychic abyss, diving into it, and retrieving nuggets of wisdom that I’ll melt down and craft into books and articles and poems and scripts that will help bring us all a little closer to ourselves and each other.
I’m vowing now to take my work and myself more seriously. Or, what I mean is, give it more respect. Sure, I’ll pick up Paul’s work shirts from the cleaners. But I’ll probably be making mental rewrites of my latest whatever-it-is while I do it. Such is life.
*The Great American Novel
On this, the first wedding anniversary of my dear friends, Tom and Lisa, I think it’s appropriate to continue my thoughts about maturity, relationships, and families. I was honored to be part of their wedding celebration last year, especially since I’d watched their relationship develop from friendship to committed relationship. I was further honored when, five months later, Tom (a shaman-in-training) agreed to be the officiant at my own wedding.
We—Tom, Lisa, Paul, and I—are around the same age. That is, hovering around or already into our 40s. Some of us, such as Tom and me, are in new phases of our careers. Tom is devoting his life to assisting others toward spiritual growth, and I am honing my craft to honor the healing portion of my calling as a writer. For himself, Paul is beginning to write more than he ever has before, and we're planning to build a Music Room into our new home so that he can keep creating music. In fact, all four of us are going through massive changes; as I write this, Lisa is approximately eight weeks away from giving birth to hers and Tom's first child.
How did we get to this point? If you look at it as a timeline, we simply lived our lives as they unfolded for us. Following our drive, making mistakes, fixing them. But now, we find ourselves at the point (albeit relatively late by societal standards) of beginning to grow our families.
Some of my peers are sending their kids to college next year. I’m trying to plan next year’s trip to India based on what trimester of pregnancy I might be in if I get pregnant before 2008 disappears. Very different feeling. And not one I’m altogether comfortable with.
The downside to starting a family so late is that I have become accustomed to my life as it is. The freedom, the spontaneity, the quiet. (Of course, within that life of freedom and quiet, I spend a fair amount of time watching childbirth programs on Discovery Channel, but you get the point.) I've lived with this body for my whole life; am I really ready to watch it radically and permanently alter? Will I get used to living in that new shell? I finally found the love of my life and I want to be selfish with him for a while. But it feels like there’s no time. We’re both 40 next year, and both concerned about waiting too long to become parents, not to mention the health risks to both mother and baby.
Then again, there are many wonderful aspects to beginning a family life so late: The most obvious is that life has taught me to be secure about what I want as well as what is unacceptable to me. Little things no longer bother me. I’m happy to be alive, and that feeling alone sustains me through most of my days. I’m humbly thankful for getting to be here. And that very idea is what makes me want to share the joy of this life with a child. My child. Our child.
My transition from single woman to wife to (possible) mother has had to come hard and fast for me. In a way, it’s what I’ve been practicing for my whole life—even when I said I would never remarry or have children. All of what I experienced before now has led me here. I have to remember that. In turn, all my contemplation now will feed into the woman I become later on.
I finally realize that there was no other time before now for me to start a family. I couldn’t have done it fifteen years ago, or ten years ago. Even five. No time before this one was the right time for me. I have no idea if Paul and I will have children one day. But I have to assume that if it happens, that will be the right time, too.
On August 25, I celebrated my 39th birthday. I’ve heard that 39 is an awful year—particularly as one nears the end of it. I have been determined to embrace my age every year and grow old as gracefully as possible. I suppose my thought is that there’s nothing I can do about getting old, so I might as well make peace with it.Well, that’s all very nice. The truth is that I’m afraid if I really looked long and hard at what it means to, as Paul puts it, “suck up the last year of being in your 30s,” I might have an existential meltdown from which I’d never recover.It wasn’t that long ago that I was whining in one journal or another about having nothing to show for my life: no screenplays made into feature films, no Great American Novels, no home or land that I own, no children, no love-of-my-life… It was then that I really felt my age! What milestones, what badges of honor had I accumulated since turning 21—besides crow’s feet and a few new sprouts of gray hair?Now that I’ve gotten married, I can rest on the accomplishment of finding a man who can put up with me. Well done. Babies? If any of them are forthcoming, they will certainly be something I can happily leave behind when I die (assuming they’re decent human beings).As for my writing, I can’t say what will happen. Perhaps it is this constant work at being a writer that makes me feel younger than I really am; that work is the same work I’ve been doing for over 20 years. I’m still sitting at this desk, still creating, still networking… I could be 22. Or 28. Or 35.There’s much more to say on this age topic, particularly as it pertains to how late in life I’ve gotten married and chosen to start a family. It deserves its own entry, however, so stay tuned…
After a long blogging absence, I've decided to get back on the job, as it were. For those who have kept up with my blogging, you'll know that I simply don't write unless (as the title of my blog implies) there's some thing I can really share (besides what I ate for breakfast or where I last got drunk and made an ass of myself).
I think I found that thing to share.
Again, many of you know that over the last nearly six years, I have been completely, solidly, almost devoutly single. It's not that I haven't wanted to find a life partner, but I have not had much luck taking exhausting laps in the public pool of Internet dating. I tried it, found out that most of the men were using online dating to get laid, got disgusted, yanked myself off, got lonely, hesitatingly plugged my nose and dove in again (naked and willing), leapt out and ran…
I finally came to the conclusion that I was going about online dating the wrong way. Sure, there were men that used the services to find bed partners. But it couldn’t possibly be all of them. And, hell, even the lotharios were fun to hang out with. So, I decided to treat online dating like more of a social club. Since I work at home, I don’t meet a lot of people. (That, and I’m a magnificent introvert.) I’d had my share of Fun Sex and wanted to share something deeper. I made a pact with myself that the next man I had sex with with would have to understand that if he was going to sleep with me, there could be no one else.
Sound extreme? Think of it this way: if you want to find out if a man is really into you, ask him to honor your sexuality and yours alone. It’s not cruel; no one says you have to sleep together right away (meanwhile, he can screw anything or anyone he wants), and if you do get together and things don’t work out, you both can move on. But until then, stay focused. See what happens. It may sound old-fashioned, but I’m not apologizing for asking for at least that base level of respect. (Especially after what I’d experienced in my days of debauchery. Women and men know what I'm talking about.)
My plan was to go on dates with interesting men, listen to their stories…and not sleep with them. Interesting indeed! Of course, I often did not get more than one date with these men, in part I’m sure because they got the vibe that I wasn’t inviting them up to see my etchings any time soon. But that was fine.
See, I had also come to the realization that—as a writer and peace worker—I have much to offer the world. I wasn’t going to hang around, doing the dance to get a mate, while sacrificing time doing the work I can do right now. Any man who was going to fit into my life would have to catch up with me. I also realized what this really meant: I may spend the rest of my life alone.
And that was when Paul’s profile hit my inbox on Chemistry.com.
Besides being ridiculously handsome in that boyish way that makes my stomach feel all weird, his profile struck me as something I would have written if I were a man. It was at least worth a look.
We went through the necessary site-related butt-sniffing questionnaires, passed whatever tests we’d thrown at each other, moved our correspondence away from the mother ship, and began emailing privately at the end of November 2007. Our first date was the first night of Hanukkah (5 December).
Three days shy of eight months later, we got married.
It was the end of an era for me. A lot for my psyche to chew on, to say the least. But now I have a lifetime to do it.
So, that brings me to that thing I think is worth sharing. What does it really mean to be married—to make the transition from single, independent, creative woman to wife? I’ll be blogging on this subject as topics arise. I certainly hope to get comments and questions from you as we move along…
With peace,
Mrs. Paul J. Curley
(The Artist Previously Known as Rachel Astarte Piccione)
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; eat, drink, smoke what I chose to; create art I believed in...
