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I do not understand how two people can look at the exact same set of circumstances and see things so dramatically differently.  I am one of many folks on an e-mail list of my high school classmates, and I periodically received newsy e-mails.  Many are the kind that let us know that someone’s mother or father has passed away; sadder still are the ones that let us know one of our classmates passed away.  There are invitations to “mini-reunions” and occasionally to clubs where some band we all liked in high school is playing. 

I’m not particularly close to any of my classmates because I didn’t exactly feel like I fit in in high school.  I was most assuredly a late bloomer.  But I’ve allowed my e-mail address to remain on the list because I just like keeping up.  When sappy “remember how much better things were being a child in the 50’s” come in, I just delete them and don’t give them much mind.  I’m of the opinion that if that sort of thing appeals to you, you’ll think your childhood times were better than the present no matter when you grew up.  My memory is too good for that sort of mind game.

Anyway, something happened this week that kind of threw the high school newsy e-mails topsy turvy.  One of my classmates sent out a ranting about how Obama wouldn’t provide a legitimate birth certificate to prove his citizenship, and when we get to the bottom of this constitutional travesty he won’t be “much of a president from Leavenworth.” (Huh?  Leavenworth??)  I went to snopes.com where my belief that this pronouncement wasn’t worth a bucket of warm spit was confirmed.  I went back to the e-mail and responded to the address list that the statements were false and that could be confirmed at snopes.  I also opined that our high school newsy thing was probably not an appropriate forum for the political agenda.

Boy, were the hounds ever loosed.  The original sender made all sorts of pronouncements about how snopes.com didn’t have all the information, and went on to justify all things evangelical and Palin and warning us that our country was falling apart.  Soon after, another of my classmates talked about pots and black kettles and reminded us about the current administration’s penchant for getting us into wars that have killed thousands, undermining the Constitution with warrantless wire taps, torture, and rendition, and removing statutory constraints on lending institutions to the point that we’re ecomonically drowning.  It was beautifully written, if you ask me.

But I’m pretty sure it’s not over, and I’ll get another e-mail explaining how the last one completely misses the point.  Which is my point with this post.  What makes us see the same thing through such different glasses?  Is it perspective?  Priorities?  Fear?  I would welcome your ideas, no matter what color glasses you peer from.

My Dad has advanced Alzheimer’s and is going downhill fast.  Late in the day or evening, he is starting not to know who my Mom is.  But that’s not the half of it; he thinks she’s a man.  At night he tries to throw her out of the bed because he “doesn’t sleep with men.”  It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking sad.  Believe me, my sister doesn’t think it’s funny when she has to go over to their house in the night and calm him down so he won’t throw Mom out!

I idolized my Dad.  He was an English major in college, and the world of words was a treasure to him.  He prided himself in perfect grammar, and he never misused the verbs “to lie” and “to lay.”  (It’s lots harder than you think when you get out of present tense!)  He was a collector of jazz records, and has upwards of 5,000 LP’s and 78’s.  He has every song Billie Holiday ever recorded and just about every one Ella recorded.  He had an encyclopedic memory of all the musicians who played on each recording, and where and when they were recorded.  Today, he picks up the records and looks at them like he’s never seen them before.  He swore to me that someone sent some of them to him in the mail, unsolicited.  It just makes me cry.  However, he still corrected my brother-in-law’s grammar just a few weeks ago.  I think that will be reflexive with him to the end.

He’s always had a phenomenal memory.  He was very politically astute and when he got into discussions with people over political issues, he was able to site facts and quote the pertinent authorities off the top of his head.  In fact, that was when we began to realize he had Alzheimer’s.  He would be in the middle of a political discussion, and all of a sudden no one’s name would come to him.  He would become so frustrated, it would send him into a depression.  I had no idea it would devolve to where we are today.  What a nasty, senseless disease!

For the recipe today, I think we need something comforting (and trouble free) - like soup!

Italian Sausage Soup

2 lbs. Italian sausage (half hot and half sweet, or all sweet, your preference)

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 cans artichoke hearts, drained and chopped

2 cans diced tomatoes (undrained)

1 package Lipton onion soup mix

1 teaspoon each basil and oregano

1 teaspoon Italian seasoning

1/2 cup orzo

In a large soup pot, saute sausage until no longer pink.  Add remaining ingredients and thoroughly mix.  Add water just to cover and simmer at least one hour.  It’s even better made ahead a day and reheated.