This morning reading the Times I saw the breaking news about how Trump’s executive order banning immigrants from the U.S. is being applied–immediately.
I’m no longer surprised at my days of outrage punctuated by bouts of nausea. Although this time I was surprised that any of the virtually meaningless and illegal Trump orders had a visible effect: desperate people with visas and green cards were being stopped at the airports. Where, if they managed to land at JFK, they’ve been greeted and assisted by my terrific Congressman Jerry Nadler and Brooklyn’s terrific Congresswoman Nydia Velázquez. And the ACLU.
I was talking to my friend Ellen about all this. Well, “talking” isn’t quite what we were doing. Ranting is the better word and Ellen rants better, deeper and more wisely than anyone I know.
Among many things, she has been particularly angered at reading Facebook stuff from antiquated flower children about oh, how we all have to hug each other and take breaks from all these bad things and do nice things for ourselves, like go to a spa.
“Spa?!” I erupted. “I don’t want a fucking mani-pedi! I want to claw his fucking eyes out!”
(Ellen liked how I said what I said, so…see above.)