Last Friday shortly after the announcement of the Supreme Court ruling legalizing gay marriage, the website of the satirical newspaper "The Onion" published a fictional article on how the Justices who tried to block the legalization of gay marriage, Justices Alito, Roberts, Scalia and Thomas, reacted when it hit them that they'd be portrayed as the villains in the movie version of the fight for equal marriage rights. "The Onion" imagined this movie would be called Defense of Marriage. If you haven't yet seen this article, here's the link: http://www.theonion.com/article/scalia-thomas-roberts-alito-suddenly-realize-they--32972?utm_campaign=default&utm_medium=ShareTools&utm_source=facebook Go to it, read the article, you'll laugh out loud. But what's so tickling funny about the piece is that its premise is absolutely believable. I mean, you know full well that there will be a movie - all the basic dramatic elements for a great plot are there, right? And the structure of historical facts will naturally be built upon, with much ornamentation added by the scriptwriters.
Might I also suggest for the roles of the bad-guy Justices: Greg Kinnear as Justice Roberts,
Rainn Wilson as Justice Alito,
Samuel L. Jackson as Justice Thomas,
As for the script, it'll practically write itself. The lines for the four dissenting Justices can be taken from the opinions they wrote against the majority ruling. For example here's how the scene in Defense Of Marriage might go at the moment when it becomes plain to the opposing Justices that they've lost and that marriage equality is about to become the law of the land: Justice Roberts throws up his hands as he whines, "Fine! Let them all - whatever sexual orientation - who favor expanding same-sex marriage, by all means celebrate today’s decision. Celebrate the achievement of a desired goal. Celebrate the opportunity for a new expression of commitment to a partner. Celebrate the availability of new benefits. But do not let them celebrate the Constitution. It had nothing to do with it!" "Oh, now stop your pouting, John," tsks Justice Bader Ginsberg, (played by Silvia Sydney), patting
his hand, "it did too." "Okay, so you're telling me," snorts Justice Scalia, dripping sarcasm, "that the five of you who compose today’s majority are entirely comfortable concluding that every State violated the Constitution for all of the 135 years between the Fourteenth Amendment’s ratification and Massachusetts’ permitting of same-sex marriages in 2003?" "That's correct, Tony," calmly replies Justice Breyer (played by Alan Alda), "but I'm happy to
say that today we've finally put that very old wrong aright." "Well," sniffs Justice Alito, "the Constitution says nothing about a right to same-sex marriage." "Yeah, well, we say it does, Sam," snaps back Justice Kagan (played by Kathy Bates).
Justice Alito heaves a deep sigh and looks as if he's about to cry. "I assume," he whimpers, "that those who cling to old beliefs will be able to whisper their thoughts in the recesses of their homes, but if they repeat those views in public, they will risk being labeled as bigots and treated as such by governments, employers, and schools." Justice Sotomayor (played by Elizabeth Pena) rolls her eyes. "Aw, cut the drama, Sam! Of course
anybody who spouts bigotry out in public is going to be labeled as a bigot!" "Yeah, well," huffs Justice Scalia, his expression the avatar of sour grapes, "the substance of today’s decree is not of immense personal importance to me, but I'm just saying that if I ever joined an opinion for the Court that began: 'The Constitution promises liberty to all within its reach, a liberty that includes certain specific rights that allow persons, within a lawful realm, to define and express their identity,' I would hide my head in a bag!" "Ah, Tony," replies Justice Kennedy (played by Jim Broadbent) with an impish smile, "twenty-five
years from now when history is casting its judgement upon this day and upon those who chose which side of justice to stand on, you'll have to hide your head in a bag!"
This retort casts half the room into giggles and the other half into silent scowls until Justice Thomas clears his throat and begins speaking in a stentorian tone: "Human dignity has long been understood in this country to be innate. When the Framers proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal” and “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,” they referred to a vision of mankind in which all humans are created in the image of God and therefore of inherent worth. That vision is the foundation upon which this Nation was built. The corollary of that principle is that human dignity cannot be taken away by the government. Slaves did not lose their dignity (any more than they lost their humanity) because the government allowed them to be enslaved. Those held in internment camps did not lose their dignity because the government confined them. And those denied governmental benefits certainly do not lose their dignity because the government denies them those benefits. The government cannot bestow dignity, and it cannot take it away." The other eight Justices stare at him in drop-jawed silence for a moment then begin cat-calling while grabbing sheets of papers from the table, crumpling them, and throwing them at Justice Thomas. In the closing scene, while sipping lattes in the Supreme Court coffee shop and looking out the window at the jubilant crowds below, Justice Scalia chuckles to Justice Bader Ginsberg, with whom he is good friends outside the courtroom, "Sheesh, Ruth, was that Clarence's dumbest non-sequitur yet or what?"
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Theresa and me, back in the day.
Yesterday, Friday, June 26, 2014, the news broke that the Supreme Court of the United States ruled 5-4 in favor of gay marriage. When I learned the news I felt like I wanted to always remember where I was and what I was doing at this historic moment. Alas I was doing something trivially mundane when I learned the news - checking my Facebook page, from which I in fact learned the news. At that moment I felt jubilant, proud to be an American, happy for my gay brothers and sisters, my fellow citizens who are finally being granted this certain unalienable - and wonderful - right. I was wishing I were out somewhere, celebrating with someone, maybe in front of the the steps of the Supreme Court in Washington, or even just walking around downtown Columbus looking for a crowd of celebrants. But I was at home alone. I called Tom, who's in Cleveland taking care of his father. Then I called my sister. Then my daughter. Everyone was working. So I celebrated in spirit with my Facebook friends, liking their posts and pictures, commenting, posting my own thoughts, sharing, as it's it's done in the internet age, a historic moment:
People began posting over and over a section of the majority opinion written by Justice M. Kennedy:
I can see the beautiful words of this passage becoming iconic, finding a place on plaques and posters, being quoted in part in Sunday sermons and during wedding celebrations, right up there with "Love is patient and kind". By this morning Facebook was offering the option to show support by have a rainbow filter transposed over one's Facebook photo:
 And then one of my friends posted the video of rainbow lights illuminating The White House:  This does one's heart good. Because for those of us who believe in "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you", the good things in life become better when nobody's left out. And I believe that's what yesterday's decision was all about. And why we should all be celebrating.
It's good that we as a nation have shown the will, long overdue, to retire the public display of the Confederate flag.
I believe this effort shows a heightened sensitivity to the dregs of racism still remaining in our country as well as a desire for unity and social harmony among us all. But on the other hand, bringing down the Confederate flag, while it's the morally right thing to do, is unlikely to save any black lives in the future; nine people were killed last week in Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church not because the Confederate flag was flying over the South Carolina State House, but because a mentally derailed youngster with a racist warp and a police record was able to walk into a store and buy a semi-automatic hand gun* . Perhaps 100 years ago when racial discrimination was backed up by the law throughout the South and the Ku Klux Klan was about to enter a Golden Age, the Confederate flag had the power to inflame and unite groups of people in socially acceptable acts of racial hatred and violence. But now, in the second decade of the 21st century, the flying of the Confederate flag is merely grossly insulting and disrespectful to African Americans. And racism in this country has devolved since the Civil Rights era into something more subtle and complex that tends to present as economic injustice rather overt harassment, lynchings and other organized acts of physical harm. These days members the epithet-spouting white supremacy groups that still rally 'round the Confederate flag are considered by and large part of the socially undesirable fringe. They lack any strong social underpinnings. But sadly in our country today what a person lacks in power or influence or mental stability they can make up for in guns. If Dylan Roof, strung out and facing a felony charge, hadn't been able to walk into a gun store and come out with a .45-caliber Glock he'd have remained just a weird racist misfit living in the twisted universe in his head, nine good people would still be going about their lives and the Confederate flag would still be flying offensively over the South Carolina statehouse. Our nation came together to take care of the flag problem. Is there any chance that our government leaders will now find the backbone to do something about the gun problem? *In my post from 6/19/2015 I stated that Dylan Roof received his gun as a birthday gift. More recent investigation by the FBI points to the gun having been purchased by Roof with money given to him by his family. In the week since the murder of 9 members of a historic black church in Charleston, South Carolina, Americans, both black and white, have been shocked into consciousness of the the display of the Confederate flag in this country.
It's amazing that for 150 years after the defeat of the pro-slavery Confederacy most of us white Americans have been near-oblivious to the offensiveness to black Americans inherent in the public display of this flag. But it's equally amazing how suddenly our eyes were opened. Within days of the tragic act in Charleston the cry of a few to take down this flag from the Charleston statehouse grew into a movement, and in response retailers across the country quickly pulled the flag along with other Confederate-theme memorabilia from their inventory, from major national chains like Walmart, Target, Sears and Amazon to small family-owned stores like The Flag Lady Flag Store here in Columbus. But to me most amazing of all is how this sudden national awareness of the racist import of the Confederate flag cut across racial, geographic and political lines. Who would have guessed that Southerners and their leaders could ever be so willing, so demanding to immediately reliquish this flag along with other monuments and symbols that once stood for Southern pride and solidarity? Who would have guessed that lawmakers from the South would be in the forefront in calling for the abolition of these icons from their own states? Who would have dreamed 150 years ago that the flag that divided us as a nation would one day, in a moment of tragedy and grief, unite us? And yet that day has arrived. And I believe in my heart that if there's one thing that horrific act of violence in Charleston has made us realize is that, whatever our politics, no decent person in this country wants to live in a racist society. I believe that we, most of us, really do want to live in a land where the truth is held as self-evident that all people are created equal and entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I believe that is the land all good people desire to live in. And who knows, maybe today with a clearer vision we'll start moving a little closer to that land.  Wait, what? You're telling me the Confederate flag flies over the South Carolina statehouse? Seriously? On government property, in front of a government building? Really?
That flag? Can you imagine a seat of government in this country today flying the flag of Hitler's Germany or Hirohito's Japan, the flag of North Vietnam, Al Quaeda or ISIS, or the flag of any other enemy, past or present, of the United States of America?
Really? Does the flag that once enshrined the most reprehensible racial oppression imaginable really yet wave o'er the capitol building in a state where one-third of the population is African American? And the citizens of South Carolina are fine with this? I'm stunned. I suppose I believed that, other than in historical presentations, display of the Confederate flag was relegated to kitsch art and "Dukes Of Hazard" - syle comedy. But no, the Confederate flag flies high and proud in the city of Charleston, even now after a sick, twisted young racist, inspired by the ethos represented by that flag, walked into a church last Wednesday night and murdered a group of black people at prayer with a Glock 42 handgun that had been recently given to him, deranged as he was, by his father as a gift for his 21st birthday. And now legal experts are quibbling over whether this was a hate crime or an act of terrorism. As if this point were so important, as if it mattered to the heartbroken families, friends, and community left behind. And that flag still flies. I understand that controlling the availability of guns is out of the question because guns don't kill people and if we all weren't permitted to own all the guns we wanted and to carry them everywhere we went then our country would collapse and life as we know it would cease to exist. But could the South Carolina General Assembly, out of respect for the 9 African Americans dead in Charleston and the 45 million still alive in this country, not take down that flag? References:
1. "Civilian Deaths Civil War", Civil War Talk, April 19, 2011, http://civilwartalk.com/threads/civilian-deaths-civil-war.23466/ 2. "Civil War Casulaties", Historynet, http://www.historynet.com/civil-war-casualties
Our initial what the heck?! reaction quickly evolved into a discussion over whether this supposed album cover from - when? The 50's? The 60's? - was real or a photo shop creation; were The Faith Tones an actual group? If so did they represent satire or sincerity? Were they women? Or guys in leisure suits and bouffant 'do's? Anyway, when we got home Theresa googled "The Faith Tones" and what we learned was that this this 60's - or possibly pseudo-60's - trio that I'd never heard of is in fact a great internet mystery with a cult following. There are numerous sites debating the existence of "The Faith Tones" and their album. There are those who swear that the album, supposedly released in 1964, exists; that they, or their father, or their cousin's friend's uncle in fact own, or used to own a copy. There are others who claim that they've scoured the internet looking for a copy of "Jesus Use Me" and that they've never found any evidence of its existence. Some hold that the album is just a fabricated meme image, an internet urban legend . Not that you can't find a recording of the title song. A recording of the of the song "Jesus Use Me", an Old Timey piano gospel tune sung in close three-part women's harmony, was posted with a photo of the album cover on Youtube in 2013. You can check it out at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RciSEvedXvs If you listen to the recording it sounds authentic enough, and the person who posted that also posted two other songs from the album, "It's Different Now" and "God Bless America."
The above photo accompanied a supposedly rare recording by a supposedly 60's Canadian Christian girl rock group. That recording is at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMjlz7aCVzE So does this prove that the Faith Tones are a fake? Or that they were just moonlighting? Anyway, there are enough believers out there that "Jesus Use Me" has a place - sometimes first - on several "Worst Album Cover Ever" sites, and there are numerous parodies of the cover kicking around the 'net:
There's also a hilarious youtube video called "Faith Tones Exposed" that reveals the "true identity" of The Faith Tones. This one you should check out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0ewF1jtAJs I did come across one blog that posted a very believable, detail-filled and rather touching biography of the group members that was picked up by Wikipedia...until the author admitted that the story was fiction. Suspiciously, the person who posted the fake biography appears to be the same one who posted the Faith Tones recordings on Youtube. So go figure. In any case, here are the conclusions I've come to about the Faith Tones: 1. Be it real or fake, there are three individuals somewhere out there, though at this time we know not who for sure, who posed for that album cover, and 2. If The Faith Tones really were a female trio that produced an album in 1964 that is now enjoying a dubious renaissance, you'd think they'd step forward and try to cash in on the phenomenon. Or step forward and tell everyone to knock it the heck off.
Now, despite how close this restaurant is to our house, and how often we eat out, I'd only ever been to fM one time before; and so I'd forgotten about its fun decor and how vast the place is:
The spacious dining room is divided into two areas :
The larger of the two dining areas also has:
Along with the dining rooms there is also a pool room with lights suspended in blue bottles,
As I walked around the restaurant looking at all the neat areas I thought, wow this would be a great place for a rehearsal dinner - or, if they'd block off the bigger dining area for you, even a classic rock-themed wedding reception.
But over and above the looks of FM, the food and service was great.
I was afraid maybe the wait staff wouldn't see us, but as soon as we sat down a friendly server came over with menus and to take our drink orders. The menu offerings were voluminous, with lots of choices of everything from appetizers to "pub food" to entrees. Our meals came fairly quickly, and the presentation was beautiful. Theresa ordered the Margherita Flatbread, which is described in the menu as "Fresh-sliced Roma tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil and garlic oil, topped with balsamic glaze":
I ordered the Vegetarian Gyro, "A warm pita stuffed roasted vegetables, shredded lettuce, red onion, cucumbers, tomatoes, feta cheese and tzatziki":
It's come back to me that the last time I was here I had a burger, which I remember as also being especially good, rare and juicy. Still, despite the neat decor and wonderful food, the place was pretty empty for a Thursday night. there were some ads in the lobby for a band that would be there on the weekend, so I wonder if the weekends are when they have most of their business. Anyway, we had a great dinner at fM last night.
"When did you become such a photobug?" my mom asked me, chuckling over my current predilection for keeping my camera always in my pocket and snapping any random thing that comes into my range of vision. I suppose it could be a symptom of my OD, which is OCD without the "C" - I'm not a particularly compulsive person, just an obsessive one - so that when it comes to pursuits and activities, I tend to be either obsessed by a thing or have not the least interest in it. Hence I can't take just a couple of photos now and then. But one thing I've learned: once you've gotten into capturing images you start noticing things more, looking for what might be of interest in every scene. You find yourself searching for beauty, for something worth capturing and saving, and in searching for beauty and significance, you start finding it really everywhere you go. During my last trip to visit my mother in Seaford, Delaware, the epiphany that hit me regarding my mother's things (see yesterday's blog) also hit me regarding the place where she lives. For all the times I've walked it in the past, I found myself wondering how many more walks through her beautiful neighborhood I'd have in the future. But there was still time for at least one more walk and one more chance to capture forever the image of this place: 
At one point Tom stopped to look at a strange branch growing up from the ground. When I caught up with him I, too, stopped to look. "What do you think that is?'' I asked him. Tom shook his head. "Wild honeysuckle. A bad invasive plant. You just can't kill it." "But I can shoot it!" replied I.
 Last Thursday Tom and I drove from Columbus to Seaford, Delaware to visit my mother.
to keep a lovely, spotlessly clean home:     
I say spotlessly clean, though the walls don’t lack for decorative hangings nor the spaces and surfaces for assorted knick-knacks and curios . Whenever I visit my mother I find myself wandering through the house as one would through the rooms of a museum, studying the photos and pictures, touching the vases and figurines, charmed and captivated as a child by all the pretty objects.
   But one time during this visit as I was taking a turn around the house the thought hit me: After I leave in a few days how many more times will I see my mother? How many more times will I be able to walk around her house and look at her things, all the colorful objets d'art that are my mother's material ties to this life and the people she loves? I wished there were some way to keep my mother and everything in her house frozen in time and memory, right where they are, forever. And then I remembered: that's what cameras are for.   …Continued from yesterday:
The rifle-toting policia were not the only unit responsible for maintaining public safety and order in the late-night streets of Francisco Franco’s Madrid back in the spring of 1972. There was also at that time in this city, which was in every discernable aspect a modern European capital, a quirky official presence that my fellow tourists and I found oddly delightful. In 1972 all the hotels in Madrid locked their doors at 10 pm, or maybe it was 11 or midnight, I can’t remember exactly. But anyway, at closing time there would appear on various street corners uniformed officials called cerraynos (I’m guessing on the spelling, I never saw the word written), each of whom carried a great ring from which dangled the keys to all the hotels, hostels and lodging establishments within their assigned sector. If you were a hotel guest and stayed out past closing the only way to get back in was to stand in front of your hotel, clap your hands and shout – or sing – “Cerraaaaayno! Cerraaaaaaayno!” and eventually your local cerrayno would appear to unlock the hotel entrance for you. I remember on my first day in Madrid my friends and I made a point of staying out past the closing hour so that we could try calling the cerrayno. I remember the group of us standing on the dark empty sidewalk in front of our hostel late at night, trying the heavy wooden hostel door to make sure it really was locked, looking up and down the street, giggling, each of us waiting for someone else to start, eventually one of us starting, then all of us joining in clapping and singing, “Cerraaaayno! Cerraaaayno!” After a few rounds of the Cerrayno Call our chorus trailed off as we looked up and down the street and asked each other, “Do you see anybody? Aren’t they supposed to be on every corner? Should we try again?” We tried the Cerrayno Call again. And again. And maybe a couple more times, only because we didn’t know of any other way to get into our hostel. Finally from around a corner there came hobbling towards us a bent-over little old man dressed like a hotel doorman in a long important-looking belted coat with a double row of buttons buttoned up to the collar and an officer’s hat on his head. When he reached us he retrieved from his belt his massive key ring, unlocked the door for us and, I imagine, once we were safely ensconced inside, locked the door again behind us. I don’t remember there being cerraynos in any of the other Spanish cities we visited on that trip. Maybe it was a Madrid thing. Two years ago when I returned to Madrid with Tom (see Tighten Your Boots, www.pattiliszkay.weebly.com, post from 10/29/2013) I asked the hospitalieros in the hostel where we stayed if they had ever heard of the cerraynos. One of them, a young man who appeared to be in his 30’s, never had, the other, a man probably in his 40’s, thought he might have, vaguely. I suppose it could have been that the cerraynos were before the time of either of those men. Or maybe it could be that the Spanish people still don’t much care to bring up anything from the Franco era. In any case, beyond asking our two hospitalieros, I didn’t make any effort to try and find out if anyone else in Madrid remembered the cerraynos. But if we ever return to Madrid I’m definitely going to try and find someone in that city besides me who remembers them. |
"Tropical Depression"
by Patti Liszkay Buy it on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTPN7NYY 
"Equal And Opposite Reactions"
by Patti Liszkay Buy it on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa or from The Book Loft of German Village, Columbus, Ohio 
Or check it out at the Columbus Metropolitan Library
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