segunda-feira, 2 de setembro de 2024

August 30

Dear J.,

I hope you are doing well, now that the summer is almost over. When my alarm clock comes on at 6 AM, it is still almost dark and the morning feels crisp. Last week, I was in West Texas to visit the cotton crop. I think we, my coworker and I, drove to 16 or 17 counties, but my hotel was in Lubbock. I stayed at an Embassy Suites that had an indoor garden, which I really enjoyed; I knew about it from the previous time I had been to Lubbock. However, I did not sleep very well, since the bedroom was a bit chilly, even though I had the temperature set to 76º F as I do at home.

The other reason for my lack of enthusiasm for being there was my coworker. He sometimes asks personal questions like my age or in which party I vote. He is a Republican and says he does not like Trump, but he voted for Trump against Hillary and did not vote when Trump ran against Biden. He did not say whether he would vote in this election, but indicated that he does not like Kamala because she did nothing, especially on immigration after going to Latin America. Funny enough he did mention that he liked Trump’s policies, but wishes he would keep his mouth shut. He failed to recognize that Kamala did not have executive power to decide what to do on immigration policy and, I am afraid that, at the time, I also failed to remind him of that and the fact that immigration policy was at the heart of Trump’s presidency and, if that had been solved by him, then there would be no reason for Kamala to visit Latin America. Instead, I just had a little ranting episode about how we needed a woman president because woman are 50% of the population and should be represented in the higher office. Of course, it is true, but my tone of voice and impassioned speech did not help my or Kamala’s cause.

With the trip preventing me from doing my normal work, I ended up having to work during the weekend, which was probably just as well, so that I could keep my mind occupied, while I continued to fume about misogynistic men. Then, on Monday evening, as I was getting ready to go buy some food for my dog, my car would not start. Seconds after, I happened to get a message from one of my neighbors across the street and took the opportunity to lament my car situation. He immediately came over with his wife to check on my car. While we were looking at what could be wrong with it, we spoke about putting out flags to decorate the neighborhood for Labor Day, which I did not recall us doing—-not all holidays get a neighborhood decoration. Then he mentioned that if Trump won, we’d be decorating the neighborhood. I asked about Kamala winning, which would be an historical event, and he said “That bitch! I want to retire one day…” I was so shocked at what he said, plus upset at my impassioned rant when I was with my coworker, which had absolutely no persuasive value, that, this time, all I could think to say was to advise him to watch it, since Memphis is two-thirds Democrat, so it would look bad if anyone heard him in the neighborhood.

All last and this weeks I have been feeling strange, like I am on edge, and I think it has to do with all these Trump supporters. I actually know very few people who were promptly as happy as I was that Kamala was the candidate. The media is extremely pro-Kamala, but I still remember eight years ago thinking that there was no way Hillary could lose and, yet, she did. So now I am drowning my enthusiasm for Kamala and, instead, inviting dread to live rent-free in my head. I hope I have not made you more worried. I am planning on taking a meditation practice more seriously, so that I can stop being overly dramatic.

Have there been any good news in our old neighborhood?

I love you dearly,

Rita

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