Six Generations of First Born Women

Last night we watched the second half of Hitler: Rise of Evil. I'm overwhelmed by the parallels between Hitler and the Bush administration. When Hitler said "we will use the Democratic government to gain power and then we will dismantel it" I felt stung, panicked. The intimidation of anyone who dares to speakout (Michael Moore, and the Dixie Chicks take cover), the takeover of the media, but the key element was the rage. The use of rage to gather the pack, all the people who feel powerless (forget the fact that it was the policies of a government intent on dismanteling itself that removed all the systems that helped to support the powerless that only increased this state of being for the masses that then fueled the rage). Rush Limbaugh, Michael Savage, and all the other rage mongers on the right throwing kerosene on their listeners and then standing back to watch the rage. I confess, while my politics are pretty far left, I'm a type that rages. I tend to muddy the facts and act on pure emotion, over-the-top I go. I feel my "rage" against the Bushies and what they all stand for, rising. RG, while sharing my political view, calmly, rationally, points out all the facts that will alay my fears. RG has no rage. He is the ultimate rational man. America now is not in the same economic state as Germany after WW1. Government, the press, the media was much smaller then, easier to control. We have the internet afterall...and so on. He points out the history, the facts. But I rage and I'm afraid there are more people like me than like him.

He left the blogger posting screen up on his computer this morning. Last night he asked if I wanted to post anything. He's my facilitator in things creative. I wanted to go running in Danehy Park, it was a beautiful evening. Some slight resistance on his part, not much, it is a game between us. After so many years it is still this subtle tension that keeps the relationship alive. I'll have to start getting up earlier in the morning if I'm going to write. Now I've got to get ready for work. Not enough time for the caffine to kick in and assemble my thoughts. I'll try again tomorrow.

He said my first post should be done when I'm drunk. Reminds me of of 20+ years ago when he put a lined note pad (with a Harvard U. logo on the cover) and a pen in my hand and said "write", or the day in my studio (after a very satisfying evening) when he asked why I never use green in my paintings. So now I'm a grandmother, then I was a mother, and the daughter part of me causes me the most distress. My mother is still alive. I'm one of those working women in the middle. I knew my great grandmother (she died on my 14th birthday) who was an only child, my grandmother( born in 1900) was an only child, my mother was an only child, I'm almost an only child, my daugter is an only child, and now her first born (she tells me she wants one more) is a girl.