Category: Lucy Moore Blog

Letter #2 to Stephen

Lucy Moore

Dear Mr. Miller:

It’s me again. Lucy.

June picnic on the White House lawn. Are you having fun yet?

The more I get to know you, the more intriguing you are. A real man of mystery, which ordinarily I find very attractive, but in your case… not so much. My first question is why you hide in the shadows. We all know that you are the one pulling the strings, making that witless, orange puppet sign one evil Executive Order after another. Why not step out from behind that curtain, take your bows as puppet-master and let us all marvel at your sleazy cleverness?  Ah, but maybe you are self-conscious? I’m not the only one who thinks you have an uncanny resemblance to the devil. Putting the fear of Satan in people wherever you go might have given you some kind of complex and driven you to the Dark Side. I wish I could help, but all I can think of is a lot of therapy (maybe electroshock), or extensive cosmetic surgery, or a one-way ticket to Transylvania. (Maybe that’s insensitive of me – stereotyping Transylvania, which I understand is a beautiful region of Romania with no more werewolves and vampires than anywhere else.)

But I digress! The purpose of my letter, as always, is to report my works of resistance this week.

  • I spent the afternoon with Senator Cory Booker. He is an amazing person, so full of humanity, compassion, optimism, and energy. I have always admired him, and it was thrilling to hear him speak. I have been suffering from anxiety about the state of the country, but I left the event lighter and more hopeful. His message was that even the smallest action can have a big impact. Don’t be paralyzed because you can’t fix it all, just do some small thing today, and another thing tomorrow, and together we can overcome. You’ve probably met Senator Booker. Weren’t you impressed…or maybe to be in the presence of that much goodness was a bit much.
  • I took an online training in how to support the immigrant community especially when confronted by ICE or other law enforcement. It was excellent, all about the rights of citizens and non-citizens, how to act in the presence of an arrest, what to say and do. At one point the trainer asked the audience of 1,400+ from all over the country what aspect of the organizing process they were attracted to – action, recruitment, training, reflection. Although I am a reflective person and as a mediator help people reflect on peaceful options to a conflict, I surprised myself by immediately hitting the “action” button. Next time you peek through that hole in your curtain you might see me out there raising hell.
  • I spent the evening with a friend whose mental health is fragile. She is on the edge because of the impact your puppet is having on her friends and relatives who are dependent on the VA and Medicaid. Her anger at you and your pals is in danger of consuming her and is already affecting her physical health. I tried to support her, let her vent, and give her some hope. It wasn’t easy, and when I came home, I took a few plates out of my chipped plate collection and smashed them on the patio. I remember muttering “take that, Mr. Miller.” It is hard to stay sane and healthy these days.
  •  I gave money to a small nonprofit that asks to remain anonymous for fear that you will put them in your whack-a-mole sites. It makes me very sad to see good people who are doing good things living in fear, hiding in the shadows. I can see why you hide in the shadows. We’ve already noted your unfortunate face and the evil you are doing. But these people should be proud and receiving accolades for their work, not cowering hoping they won’t be noticed.
  • And finally, I am very pleased to add my “Letters to Mr. Miller” to my list of 5-things-I-did this week. You can’t imagine the pleasure they give my many followers. And bringing a smile, a chuckle to someone who may be feeling powerless and abused by you, makes me proud.

OK, that’s a pretty good list, huh? Hope you’re impressed. It would mean so much to hear from you. I would treasure a letter and would treat it with great disrespect.

Have a nice day!

Sincerely

Lucy

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My New Elon

Lucy Moore

TO: Stephen Miller, The White House

Dear Mr. Miller:

Since Elon left me to go sell more cookie sheets on wheels, I have been without a pen pal. I thought Elon and I had a solid relationship – I wrote him the five awesome things I did each week to strengthen the resistance, and he… well, let’s say it was a little one-sided. I never heard from him. Maybe I should have taken a hint? But, I admit I was infatuated. Anyway, now I find myself needing a new relationship. Please don’t think this is just “rebound.” I have had my eye on you for some time. And when I asked myself, “Who is as powerful, destructive, and arrogant as Elon?” you topped the list.

I’m not assuming a first name basis, Mr.Miller, as I had with Elon, but am hoping that our relationship might flourish with time, and that you might even respond to me at some point. That would be such a boost to my morale, which has been pretty low lately. I continue to do at least 5 good things each week, but without someone to brag to, well, it’s just not as much fun.

So, please accept my “5-things” report for the week of July 21. I send it with great hope that you will see it and hate it.

  • I acquired 100 “Know Your Rights” cards, in English and in Spanish. I have a few in my car, in my purse, in my pocket, and wherever I go, I’m on the lookout for someone who might be targeted by ICE. You might want to alert your troops that their victims may not be quite so cooperative.
  • I helped fill 75 bags of groceries for needy people in my community. Cans of corn, tuna, soup, pork and beans; packages of noodles, cheese, tortillas; and fresh produce, too. And guess what I dropped in last, on the top of each bag? Yup, the Know Your Rights card.
  • I contributed money to a local art school that will lose a big chunk of funding thanks to the legacy of my ex, Elon. Art is good therapy for stress, which is the main complaint among my peers. Oh, and come to think of it, artists have made great revolutionaries throughout history, haven’t they?
  • I went to a fundraiser for an excellent candidate who is running for governor. The place was packed, the snacks were good, the mood jubilant, and the candidate’s speech was fiery and passionate. The drinks flowed, and so did the money. I had a great time. I’m lucky to live in a blue state where the future looks promising and where we support a woman’s right to choose and justice for immigrants, and where we still talk freely about inclusion and diversity and equity. Yes, we even say “DEI” in public, often adding the “+”. Sometimes the White House seems very far away, which is a good thing.
  • I did some weeding of my bookshelves and took an armful of books to three Little Libraries that needed filling. I figure the more people reading a book, the fewer people doom-scrolling lies. I wonder if you read much? I know you’re busy but at least take a look at the Constitution. You could read one Article before you go to bed, and then you could share what you learned with your colleagues. You could even start a book club.

But forgive me, I am being too forward for a “first date.” I really hope that this relationship works. I find since Elon left me, I have really suffered with no outlet for my “snarkasm.” I’m crossing my fingers that you’re my man!

Have a nice day!

Lucy

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Can We Have Her Back?

Lucy Moore
The Velos, now a museum, moored in Thessaloniki

What was an aging American naval destroyer doing moored at a pier in Thessaloniki, Greece? We had just checked into a hotel on the waterfront and were stepping out onto our room’s tiny balcony to take in the Aegean Sea. I had visions of ships from Greek mythology, coming home from the Trojan War, or more realistically a billionaire’s yacht, or cargo from Africa, but not this aged warhorse.  Curious, we set off down the pier toward the destroyer and were met by a very enthusiastic young guide selling tickets to tour the ship later that evening.

We chatted and learned that Markos was fulfilling his military obligation on the ship. It was perfect, he explained: work started at 4:00 pm, tours at 6:00 and 9:00, off duty before midnight, just in time to party with friends til dawn, then a big breakfast and back to the ship to sleep until his next shift at 4:00. Like many Greeks we met he believed that he had the perfect life. Who could argue?  So, with time on his hands and happy to educate a couple of ignorant Americans about their own history and the bond between his country and ours, he began the story.

Originally christened the USS Charette, she served nobly in the Pacific during World War II. She even, according to Markos, survived unscathed the attack on Pearl Harbor, which was really impressive since she was commissioned and joined the Pacific fleet in 1942, a year after Pearl Harbor. But such was the glory of the great ship, and who were we to doubt a teller of Aegean tales. After the war she was refurbished and modernized and given to Greece to serve in the royal Greek navy. Renamed Velos (Arrow), she patrolled the Mediterranean waters beginning in the late 1950s. Markos became more animated as he came to the heroic part.

In 1967 Greece suffered a military coup and the birthplace of democracy came under the rule of a harsh military junta which was known as the Regime of the Colonels.  In May 1973, Nikolaos Pappas, commander of the Velos, was participating in a NATO exercise near Sardinia. He and his crew were listening to the radio and learned that several Greek naval officers who opposed the junta had been arrested in Athens and brutally tortured. The 44-year-old Pappas was a leader of this secret group of officers who were loyal to the Constitution and had planned to overthrow the junta in the next few days. He now knew there was no hope for resistance inside Greece and decided to take the battle to the international stage.

Nikolaus Pappas, commander of the Velos

He turned the Velos toward Italy and anchored at Fiumicino, telling officers and crew that he planned to go ashore and declare mutiny. All were supportive and wanted to join him, but he took only a handful of officers and left the crew aboard, fearing there would be retaliation against their families in Greece if they joined the mutiny. He notified NATO headquarters, quoting the NATO preamble “all governments … are determined to safeguard the freedom, common heritage, and civilization of their peoples, founded on the principles of democracy, individual liberty, and the rule of law.” Once ashore he arranged for a press conference to announce to the world that the Velos would no longer serve the junta’s cruel regime. The resistance movement had done what it could. It was time for ally nations to help restore democracy and peace to his country.

Many believe that this mutiny, Pappas’ refusal to use the Velos to support the dictatorship, marked the turning point in the resistance and the beginning of the end for the dictatorship which collapsed a year later in July 1974, giving way eventually to a parliamentary republic.  In 1994, the Hellenic Navy General Staff declared the ship the “Museum of the Struggle Against Dictatorship.”

The Velos is revered by Greeks, the gift from America that brought them freedom. Markos was quick to make the connection. “Maybe we give the Velos to America so she can get democracy back!”

Lovely as that would be — not to mention romantic and mythical – the ship is staying put, and we are left to find our own ways of dealing with this current authoritarian attack on our values and our constitution. But the message from Greece is hopeful. There will be opportunities for heroic action, if we are patient, prepared and committed. We are a young country, as Europeans reminded us often. They have endured, resisted, and survived dictatorships, some multiple times in their long histories. We have had close calls – the American Nazi movement and the plot to overthrow FDR’s administration, both in the 1930s, and McCarthyism in the 1950s. With this current assault our time may have come. Let’s learn what we can from those who have reclaimed freedom elsewhere, let’s craft our own unique brand of resistance, let’s be ready for that Velos moment.

Deck of the Velos, June 2025

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Breaking Up: My Last Letter to Elon

Lucy Moore

June 25, 2025

Dear Elon

Several weeks have passed since you left me to go back to selling cars, and as is often the case with a soured relationship, I now see clearly what the problem was. I am a thoughtful, moral, caring, compassionate human and you are not. What a pity that you have so much power and I do not. But here’s the thing. There are a lot of us, more than there are of you, and we are clever, patient, and committed to the constitution which warns us about the likes of you and your orange crony.

So, I am not writing postcards to you anymore. You’re not worth the postage stamp. But I am continuing to do at least 5 things each week in your honor. These are specifically chosen because you would hate them, which includes just about everything I would want to do anyway.

Here is a sample… you better reach for your blood pressure medicine:

My invitation to Sec Burgum
  • I was one of over 2,000 who protested a meeting of Western Governors, keynoted by Secretary of Interior Doug Burgum. We focused on stopping the effort to put our public lands up for sale, something Mr. Burgum favors. The crowd was diverse (love that word as much as you hate it!) and signs were creative. There were local Indigenous people drumming and chanting in front of the venue, and when we all joined in, apparently we could be heard in the meeting rooms. This may sound pointless to you, but it felt great, and that’s critical. When was the last time you really felt great, surrounded by thousands of strangers who agreed and supported you? Probably not since… ever?
  • I sent money again to World Central Kitchen to help them feed people in Gaza. They are amazing, aren’t they? So efficient, so energetic, so unstoppable. I marvel at people who look at a desperate situation that seems overwhelming and do the impossible. They move fast and fix things – a little different from your motto: move fast and break things.
  • Hmmm, let’s see what else would you hate? I rode in a friend’s new Toyota hybrid plug-in electric car. It’s a great car. She loves it. And out on the highway she stepped on the gas (or volts?) and we shot past what appeared to be a collection of cookie sheets randomly stuck together. But, wait — was that a Tesla logo? We were going so fast it was all a blur.

  • I have a friend with a trans daughter. It has been a real struggle and she is now 17 and off to college. I spent some time with her, giving her decades-old, out-of-date advice about roommates, choosing classes, staying healthy, bringing your own pillow, getting a good desk chair with back support. Oh, I had no end of useless advice. She was so gracious and straightened me out on a few points. And we laughed a lot and I told her since I would be closer to her than her mother would be, she should consider me a foster-mom. Given the LGBTQ+ climate in this country, I wanted her to know that she had a defender close by. A fierce mama bear is never out of date.

  • And my final good deed is to make our break-up final with this letter. I will always appreciate your mandate to do five things each week, but just about everything else about you repulses me.

Have a nice day… on second thought, don’t,

Lucy

stormy weather, with hope

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Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly

Lucy Moore

There is a yellowed, curling newspaper clipping on the wall of my office. From June 16, 2016, it describes the explosion of a Space X rocket on the launch pad as a “rapid unscheduled disassembly.” It even had its own acronym – RUD. I remember being incredulous. Can we not just say what we mean, I thought, describe what’s happening in plain English? It was an explosion, a blowing to smithereens, total destruction. Is that so hard to say?

6-18-2025 “Major anomaly” [blows up before launch]

That was 2016, and today, June 20, 2025, I read in the paper that another Elon Musk Space X rocket has suffered a “major anomaly,” kindly translated as “loss of vehicle.” Coverage noted that there had been another “rapid unscheduled disassembly” last January during which pieces of the exploded rocket fell into the Caribbean. So, almost 9 years to the day later, and again I am filled with disgust at the dissembling of the truth, but there is something else. This is the perfect description of our country at this moment. We are in a state of “rapid unscheduled disassembly,” and it is no surprise that this term comes from Musk, engineer of the implosion of the US government and master of speaking in tongues.

1-16-2025 “Rapid Unscheduled Disassembly” [blows up after launch]

Let’s parse his language. 

RAPID: His Death by Doge strategy was designed to hit us in the gut, and move with lightning speed. “It is happening so fast!” we all said in disbelief. Moving fast was deliberate, as was the breakage that followed.  

UNSCHEDULED: A surprise attack, it was certainly not a vetted plan, debated in congress, and publicly scrutinized. It came out of the blue… or out of the red… with no warning for the ordinary, semi-aware citizen. And even for those who had read Project 2025 and understood the agenda, it was a shock.

DISASSEMBLY:  An interesting word. Rather than the smithereens image of everything turning into ash, disintegrating into tiny twinkling particles swirling in the smoke, I picture a sudden falling-apart, the pieces still intact. Separated from each other, they are useless. Without the structure, they cannot survive.  

USAID, for instance. The dismantling was swift and devastating, and a lot was broken. The impact of the “rapid unscheduled disassembly” on those we were serving will take its toll on world health, democracy and our reputation internationally. Over 5,700 Americans were fired, plus tens of thousands of foreign nationals and local contractors out of work, many in countries with little else to offer in the way of stability and income. This disassembly of USAID has resulted in individuals, still intact, but without a home, job, insurance, security, and most importantly a career that was for many a calling, a passion. “Everything just fell apart,” said the son of a friend working abroad. “One day I’m in my dream job, the next I’ve got no email, no internet, my files are frozen, I can’t talk to my clients, and I’m being called a criminal, a communist and a bum.”

I feel for these disassembled parts of our government. And I wonder if the “major anomaly” – loss of vehicle, in this case the whole government – is in our future.

If you see something, say something — clearly so we can all understand.  

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Happy Flag Day

Lucy Moore
crowd floods the street on way to plaza

Santa Fe, New Mexico, has a population of about 85,000. Yesterday, an estimated 5,000 (almost 6%) came out to celebrate the double holiday — No Kings Day and Flag Day. It also happened to be Trump’s birthday, and a few creative signs did wish him a very unhappy birthday.

There were several remarkable things about the rally, but what blew me away was the fact that there was zero conflict reported among participants or with law enforcement. The crowd was twice what was expected, and the “stay-on-the-sidewalk” march from the state capitol to the downtown plaza broke the rules and flooded the streets. There were citizen security guards who stopped the human flow at intersections every few minutes for traffic to cross. No matter how excited and empowered the crowd was, they obeyed, and so did the cars, waiting for their turn, many honking in support. State police in clusters of 3 or 4 were relaxed and non-threatening. They diverted traffic as needed, and called an ambulance for two people with heat stroke.

Once they reached the plaza the crowd even stayed off the grass. A very law abiding bunch!

This smooth handling of the unexpected speaks to superior organization and coordination led by Indivisible Santa Fe. The program included live music and speakers, including our congressional representative Teresa Leger Fernandez and other officials and community leaders. In addition, anyone from the community who wanted to speak could arrive early and sign up for time at the microphone. These included a 61-year old vet from the Gulf War, a young Hispana born here and wanting to speak for friends and family afraid to speak out, and a young man pleading for understanding across all differences. It was an awesome day. I will let the signs speak for themselves. Thanks to Nancy Dahl for photos.

I love this sign coupled with the face of its maker — captures the spirit of the Santa Fe march. You can be out of your mind with anger and still smile and enjoy the day.

Such creativity and wit!

My husband and I were there, with our signs, reflecting our moods. Mine on the crude side; his more restrained.

But here’s my favorite, below — gives me hope.

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The European Flush

Lucy Moore
Stylish in Greece

I just returned from three weeks in Europe. There were dozens of highlights as you can imagine, but only one obsession, and that was the toilet – maybe not surprising, given its necessity and the intimate relationship we have with that receptacle. I was never disappointed in the clean and functional European offering and never resented occasionally paying a Euro or so for a worry-free experience. But my obsession was for the flushing mechanism: The Push Button Flush. Or, I should say the push buttons, for there were always two buttons, one larger, one smaller, indicating the amount of work you were asking the flush to handle.

Tidy in the Netherlands

Not only did the variety and aesthetics of buttons in Germany, Netherlands, Kosovo and Greece make me smile, but their efficiency was impressive. The flush was powerful, speedy and seemed to use less water than the swirling, meandering flush of many American models, including ours. In the privacy of the stall, I snapped photos of different styles, hoping my fellow flushers didn’t think I had an obsession of a different sort. Ugh.

I snap a quickie in Germany

My son, whom we were visiting, agreed that the push button system was superior, but as a long term renter, he pointed out that maintenance requires opening up the wall to get at the plumbing. No lifting the tank lid and jiggling that bulb-thingy.

Creative in Kosovo

I found that I was so “button-aware” that I saw them everywhere. Below are lighting fixtures in a hotel restaurant in Greece. Can you blame me for reaching toward them for just a quick press?

It was a wonderful trip that included seeing family, visiting museums, cathedrals, markets, eating too much with no regrets, swimming in the Aegean Sea, and shutting off all political news from the US. Now that we’re back, it’s a blow to learn that the deterioration is picking up speed. Musk has abandoned DOGE, but I’m not abandoning my “5 things I did” project. I will continue to do at least 5 good things each week and spread the word, and maybe I will find a new recipient for my weekly postcards. As for Musk, we’re through. I’m pushing the BIG button and whoosh he’s gone… to the sewer where he belongs.

An odd instruction….but I’m making an exception

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Letter to Elon — have you abandoned us?!

Lucy Moore

May 5, 2025

Dear Elon –

What’s this I hear? You’ve told all those federal employees to stop writing the 5-things-I-did email to you every week? Well, where does that leave me and my jolly band of do-gooder postcard writers? There are hundreds of us ordinary citizens around the country, sending you our weekly cards and letters with the 5 things we each did. What am I to tell them? That our carefully crafted messages to you will be tossed in the trash, that you care more about cars than you do about us? Or – heaven forbid – have we let you down? If we have, I ask you, what more can we do?! We are supporting food depots, human rights organizations, immigrant support groups, candidates running to save democracy; we are protesting, making signs that are very clever, spreading the word and educating people; we are taking care of our neighbors and we are making our communities stronger.

So, Elon, please let us know how you would like us to proceed. We would prefer to keep doing our 5 things each week – some of us are actually addicted and might have a hard time giving it up — but if you want us to stop just let me know. In the meantime, we will just keep chugging along. 

And here are my 5-things from last week — 4 actually, but they are good ones:

  • In honor of Cinco de Mayo, I sent a letter of support to Lalo Alcaraz, the cartoonist of La Cucaracha comic strip. I enjoy it every morning with my coffee. La Cucaracha means cockroach and often there are characters that remind me of you. You should check it out.
  • I wrote a thank you letter – it’s really easy and very satisfying, you should try it. I wanted Harvard University to know how pleased I am by their refusal to cooperate with some crazy extortionists that are threatening them with the loss of billions of dollars. Really, these people that are attacking universities are too much!  They will bring down our democracy! It seems as if your power is unlimited, so if you see any of them in the halls, please handcuff them and send them straight to El Salvador.  
  • I organized a community-wide yard sale. Fifteen households participated, isn’t that great? We had fun, recycled probably a ton of used goods, which is good for the environment and the soul. I guess it’s not good for tycoons of industry who would like us to buy new stuff and toss the old in the landfill. Just imagining those dumps full of perfectly good stuff turns my stomach…although a landfill of Tesla trucks might be a pretty sight, all that glistening tin. But, Elon, think of the recycling possibilities – millions of beautiful cookie sheets.  
  • I met with our 5-things-I-did group here in town for a rousing session. We decided to get trained as” legal observers,” people who know the constitution and local laws and ordinances and can make sure that everyone at rallies, protests, and other gatherings is safe from abuse and unwarranted arrests. Legal observers can serve as witnesses, like a friend who saw some men in masks and camo stop a car, take the driver out and kidnap him, leaving his shocked wife and children in the car. My friend recorded it all on her cell phone and sent it to a local human rights organization. The men tried to stop her and shouted it was illegal to record, but she knew it was her right and she kept on doing it. Isn’t that courageous? I want to be ready to do the same thing.

OK, Elon, that’s it for now. Please let me know if you want me to stop doing my five things each week. If I don’t hear from you, we’re carrying on!

Have a nice Cinco de Mayo!

Lucy

such beautiful cookie sheets….
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Letter to Elon on Friendship and Fly Swatters

Lucy Moore

April 14, 2025

I bought a flyswatter. You’ll see why.

Dear Elon –

I have friends who think I’m crazy to be writing to you. Some say “You should be more careful. You might end up in jail!” I mean, really! You would never lock up a law-aiding citizen just for exercising free speech, would you? I tell them that could never happen, and they go away muttering “she’s lost it.” Do you have friends who think you’re crazy? Or maybe the first question should be “Do you have friends?” I’ve never seen a photo of you with pals, just playing pickle ball, or sitting down around a bowl of kale chips and hummus, or taking a nature walk together through a botanical garden.

This week I focused my 5-things on friendships – old, new and potential. We need each other in these stressful times, but if we are putting all our energy into protests, letters to the editor, calls to congress, keeping up with the latest news, we can find ourselves isolated and exhausted, right? So here are my 5 things from last week, and I must say, I feel very refreshed and ready to resist with new zeal.

  1. I met with a group of mediator friends to compare notes on how to make peace when people are so divided and whether we should all hang up our mediator hats, and take to the streets. It was a great conversation. I think you would have been very interested in how passionate we were. Wish you could have been a fly on the wall.
  2. I bought a new fly swatter – oops, don’t get me wrong. This has no connection to your being a fly on the wall. Just an unfortunate juxtaposition. Fly season is here and I need to be prepared to smash those pesky little things that seem to be everywhere, buzzing nonsense and spreading evil germs.
  3. I met on zoom with a young woman that I am going to mentor in mediation. I have mentored many students and those looking to change careers and each conversation leaves me full of new ideas and optimism about the future of the profession. Mentoring is really a two-way proposition, don’t you agree? Even we so-called experts have much to learn, if we can just listen.
  4. I am not technically savvy, but I tried to tidy up my Facebook page and my 5-things-i-did group page. I have a lot of friends, some of them I actually know, and many of them are enjoying my letters and postcards to you. They send me photos of what they write you, so I know you are getting more and more mail from the 5-things movement, and that makes me so happy. I wonder where you are keeping them all, not in a circular file, I hope.
  5. I took a beautiful walk with my husband up a creek bed near our house. There were huge Ponderosas, fantastic rock formations, and a cloudless, bright blue sky. I always love to see the generations of trees – the old majestic ones high above the rest, the middle-aged ones coming on strong, the teenagers bursting with hope and energy, and the toddlers, sprouting needles, new and shiny.  We met others enjoying the day, some with walking sticks, some with kids, some with dogs, some with all three. We were all friends for that moment in time and space.

Excuse my poetic detour!  I know you want a short, concise report of the five things I did, but some weeks it’s more complicated, more human… and more important.

Next week, I’ll be back to business, I promise!

Have a nice day,

Lucy

And my companion postcard:

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Toothpaste and Optimism

Lucy Moore

I came home yesterday to find this four-pack of toothpaste on the kitchen table, alongside the padded envelope it came in. My husband explained that local stores didn’t carry this particular one that he likes and so he ordered it online, and this is how it came, in a four-pack. These are not small tubes.

“That is the most optimistic thing I’ve seen in a long time,” I declared.

“You mean like it assumes that I’ll live that long?” He asked, adding “or that if I do, I’ll still have teeth by then?”

“Yes, and that the country will last that long, and the planet, for that matter, and that even if we somehow hang on, we’ll be thinking about toothpaste.”

He was unmoved, and went to squirrel away his supply in the bathroom closet.

I realized how pessimistic I am. It is there under layers of denial, fear, anger and numbness. It is there under a spunky veneer of carrying on and doing normal things, like planting tulip bulbs for seasons to come, freezing leftover green chile stew for next winter, mentoring a young person for a bright future, renewing a library card, having coffee with a friend, going to a grandchild’s graduation from high school. These are things I never questioned. They are what we do in normal times when we assume the future, although unknown, will be more or less what we’ve experienced to date. But now, I am aware that in each of these things there is fragility and uncertainty. I am wistful, anticipating such political, economic and climatic upheaval that the ordinary will be threatened and may not survive. I’m filled with nostalgia for what I still have but may lose in the months and years to come.

And, so I celebrate my husband and his more-than-a-lifetime supply of toothpaste. Let’s go for it. Along with my premature nostalgia and forecasts of doom, let’s imagine that yes, those tulips will come up in a sunny, peaceful community; and yes, we will thaw out that stew and remember a springtime of fear that is now past; and yes, my young mentee will be marching ahead, boldly on a career path that will be good for her and for all of us; and yes, the doors of the library will still open at 9 and close at 6; and yes, I will have coffee with a friend who chose not to move to Canada; and yes, that grandchild will be finding herself, just as I did, with a long road of opportunity and challenge ahead.  

The future is unknown, but let’s give optimism a chance.

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