Ohio, part 2

I live a very sheltered life, it’s true. I grew up in the People’s Republic of Berkeley. I went to Hampshire College, where I realized that I had some conservative political views (Of course now I have no idea what they were – maybe they’ve changed). I returned to Berkeley and then San Francisco. So, maybe it won’t surprise you that I just watched Fox News for the first time.

I was about sex crimes against children. The moderator interviewed 2 “experts”:
1) The father of a young boy who was raped (Granny asked, “How is a boy raped?”) and who is now a troubled young man. The offender was found guilty and given 6 months in jail for this crime and the judge on this case, who is an Asian woman, was shown on the screen and ridiculed by the moderator at least 3 times. He said things like “no action has been taken to punish this woman for her gross miscarriage of justice”.
2) A child psychologist, but I didn’t stay to watch the rest of the show.
I studied journalism for about 15 minutes, and the first thing they taught me was that the journalist is supposed to at least give the appearance of impartiality. I don’t care if you are covering the murder of children, it is always the journalist’s responsibility to withhold judgement and cover both sides of the story. I don’t know why the judge gave this sex offended only 6 months in jail, but the way the story was told, she was the criminal, not the sex offender. Was it because she is an Asian woman???

My grandmother doesn’t like to have people around her who don’t look exactly like her. One time one of the great grandchildren (the child of one of my cousins) brought a friend to a family party whose skin and hair was a shade or 2 darker than mine. She may have been Latina or she may have just had a nice olive complexion, but my Granny said “That girl doesn’t look like she belongs here – who invited her?” Granny is also known to point out people at her retirement community: “that couple is Jewish” etc. She also points out if there is something wrong with anyone’s hair or clothes or if they ask too many questions. She once said about my sister Ilana, “I like that kid even if she is half Jewish.”

Yesterday at lunch, we discussed the fact that most of the younger generation in my family haven’t married the person they have children with. I don’t know if it is too much of a commitment, they can’t afford it, or it just seems unnecessary, but they don’t seem inclined to do it. My mother speculated that, while all these Midwestern heterosexuals aren’t marrying, the homosexuals are fighting for the right to marry. I am delighted and shocked to report that my Granny said, “While why shouldn’t they get to marry if they want to? Someone ought to be doing it.”

I usually think of my Granny as the sort of quintessential dyed-in-the-wool-Republican American. She doesn’t think about the issues. She watches Fox News, where they tell the viewer what to think. She judges based on the superficial. So, you can imagine how much this last revelation surprised me.

The view from the airplane at dawn on Monday morning was also surprising. The weather had been remarkably clear and bright, and dawn over the bay reflected vividly with blue, yellow, pink and gray, sky and water and the occasional dark mass of land sneaking in. We watched the whole bay area recede from downtown Oakland, the Claremont Hotel, trails of Tilden Park, places I have played since a little girl drew away from the plane in clear angled sunlight. Meanwhile my mother wouldn’t stop talking.

I wonder who she would be without all the substances. She drinks a lot of coffee. She “needs” a drink at night. Every night that I have been with her, she’s taken a whole sleeping pill, which makes the circles under her eyes big and slack in the morning. We got Pete’s coffee in the airport before taking off, and slurped up as much of its dark muddy texture as we could before getting on the plane. It was almost instantly clear that a small size would have been more than enough (neither of us finished our coffee, tho mine was a decaf). So, I can hardly blame her for her yammering on like a speed freak.

Granny just got back from her first radiation treatment. She seemed in high spirits, tho I think she had been very worried about it, which may have made her grumpy. But today there was color in her cheeks and she had an appetite. I bought her some nutrition drinks for diabetics – high calorie, no sugar. She liked it and drank more than half of one along with the Chex Party Mix she was snacking on.

My mother wants to know how I think Granny is doing. I said she seemed to be doing well. My mother said “no, really….” But I meant it. I mean, maybe I can’t see her for the trees, for her spitfire personality, for her criticisms of my pants and shoes and hair, but she seems like the same old Granny I always had. What do I know? I have never watched someone grow old and die. Is it something that you see happening over a long period of time or is it quick? Are people themselves up until the very last breath or do they lose the strength to be superficial or wise or critical or funny or sharp like they always were? In the answer to those questions, I don’t know which truth to wish for.