One of my younger brothers via the extended family, Brian Boucher will be on MSNBC’s Abrams Report today at 4 and 6 p.m.

It’s a pretty strange story.

Lisa and I try not to talk about politics after unemployment, her particular form of crazy and gossip following the fall of the Towers collided.

Lisa: Everyone knows the firemen stole from those apartments. Everyone was calling the firemen “thieves in high boots.” Do you see them under arrest? No! Those people who died were the lucky ones! I’ll never find work again in my decimated industry!
Tata: (gasping for breath) Lisa, you will get another job if you have to flip burgers to do it. You will make a living. And those people will still be dead. I do not know where you heard these stories about the firemen but don’t give them even another thought. Moreover, they don’t really have anything to do with you.
Lisa: I can’t pay my rent! I don’t have health insurance! My doctors are puzzled!
Tata: I’ve got to go, um, floss the cat. Feel better! Buh-bye!

We shouldn’t talk on the phone. As I recall, the receiver was in six pieces ten minutes later. Lisa described herself as a Republican, and there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. Recently, she’s taken a turn at being Libertarian because she got another job and now she’s decided as a product of the public schools that she doesn’t want to pay for anyone else’s education.

As friends go, Lisa is a warm, generous person who has driven and would drive miles out of her way to help me. As long as we don’t discuss how unbelievably selfish she can be and entitled she acts, we’re good. Live and let live. My affection for her may be puzzling but the world is wide, the spectrum of possible opinions is broader than we know, and as Gandhi taught us: non-violence is the way to create change, even when we want to punch our friends and enemies in their noses.

Yesterday was a bad day to sit on the left side of the aisle. Mom called twice before lunchtime.

Mom: How do we stop this thing?
Tata: Can’t stop it. Alito’s going to be confirmed.
Mom: But he’s awful!
Tata: Yes, he’s awful.
Mom: What can I do?
Tata: Start saving now for any extended “rest cures” to Switzerland we might send your granddaughters on.
Mom: Is that supposed to be funny?
Tata: Only in a crying-on-the-outside kind of way.

Yesterday, I thanked the universe for the tumors that led to my hysterectomy. I do not fear unplanned pregnancy for myself anymore, and while I was thrilled at the time to be free of pain, pain and more pain, I am now thrilled that I will never be Samuel Alito’s bitch and George Bush’s disposable incubator. In fact, though other post-babies grownups’ results may vary, I recommend tubal ligation as a fine way to short-circuit discussion of what chemicals and whose controls, because Target could change store policy, and what, in your small town in the middle of nowhere, are you going to do?

It is no sacrifice to say I will not have more babies. I don’t want them. In the unlikely event I develop that baby fever so prevalent in our society, I can sign up at a hospital in town to hold AIDS babies for an hour here and there. I don’t have a problem. Even so, I am very, very concerned for the future of my daughter, my cousins and my nieces; I am concerned for every girl in this country who is about to have her first period because sex education in this country is scandalously, perilously bad. It’s bad enough that grown women can’t find health care and birth control options that make sense for them but that young girls will have to fight their modern, industrialized society to find basic information about their own bodies is so mind boggling I can hardly find words to express my anger. The overturning of Roe v. Wade and Griswold v. Connecticut isn’t chess pieces moving across a board; it is life, death and terrible, grievous injury to girls, women and unwanted babies who find themselves at the losing end of cold, political games.

In the narrow light of morning, the feelings of helplessness and fear dissipate. If last night I felt I had no options and my United States was now an empire in freefall, today, I see the fight begins anew, as if from the beginning. Digby quotes Robert Kennedy:

Like it or not, we live in times of danger and uncertainty. But they are also more open to the creative energy of men than any other time in history. All of us will ultimately be judged and as the years pass we will surely judge ourselves, on the effort we have contributed to building a new world society and the extent to which our ideals and goals have shaped that effort.

Yesterday, Alito was confirmed and our president gave a campaign speech, as required by the Constitution. This morning, it would be easy to give up. It would be easy to turn my back on society as a whole; to say only: I will protect girlchildren, gay children, children of color from this government with every fiber of my being.

Why, at this moment, does this feel like it is not enough?

Mitsuo does not find me funny. This development in my workplace vexes me to no end.

Tata: Nothing I do makes him laugh! What’s his problem?
John: This really bothers you, doesn’t it?
Tata: My new orthodontist is deeply insecure. He tightens my braces and I laugh. He says, “What do I do that’s so funny?”
John: Did you tell him you crush souls like his before breakfast?
Tata: He’s too young to toy with. Anyway, I explain for the tenth time laughing at other people is bad juju but one’s own antics are fair game. They love me at the orthodontist’s office.
John: Your teeth are ticklish? What’s too young?
Tata: Sure. After a second divorce a man’s known despair. That man worships me properly.
John: What about ex-wives? Don’t they worry you?
Tata: Where’s the threat?
John: They’re competition.
Tata: No. They’re simply other people. But that’s not very important. Something’s is wrong with Mitsuo!
John: What do you mean?
Tata: Testosterone weirdness is coming off him in waves. He thinks about chopping you into pieces and worse – he doesn’t find me funny!
John: I’ll…uh…hide anything sharp and quiz him with a rubber chicken. From a safe distance.

Every morning, I stumble into my office at the university, set up the coffee machine and do half an hour of stand up for my early morning co-workers. By the time I’ve said, “Thank you! Try the veal peccata!” the coffee’s ready. My office fills by 9:30. By 9:35, the coffee pot’s empty. Usually, someone gets a bright idea and makes another but sometimes, the slackers slack. I shoosh shoosh shoosh, Morticia Addams-like, into the middle of the office, pinkies up.

Tata: Whose turn is it to make Me coffee?
Gerda: Oh. My. God! Can I? Oh please?
Tata: You break My heart. Could I deny you this joy?
Chuan: I bought the coffee. Does that count?
Tata: Yes, dearest. I may openly weep!

Then the whole office has a fresh pot of coffee. My selfishness is really in everyone’s best interest. We all want that.

Tata: Mitsuo, did you make Me coffee?
Mitsuo: I made coffee, You can have some.
Tata: Dahhhhhhhhhhling, I know My happiness is most important –
Mitsuo: To you.
Tata: Tut tut! You’ll get the hang of making Me happy.

Perturbed, I consult Siobhan.

Tata: This may sound crazy but my co-worked is not, you know, thinking of My needs.
Siobhan: What? What’s the matter with him?
Tata: He’s like 23, right? She who is over 30 is irrelevant and over 40 is a burden. One day, Lupe asked him where he got his polo shirt and he said Brooks Brothers. I shouted at him, “Lie and say KMart!”
Siobhan: Sometimes people don’t like us. We’re not flavored to their taste.
Tata: I’m sure that’s true. But we’re talking about Me.

It’s possible Mitsuo may be immune to Me. It’s happened before…twice, I think. But that means it could happen again, in theory. I suppose. We’ll know for certain if the chicken goes tits-up.