To Do List or Not To Do List, That is the Congestion

 January and February are months of True Drudgery for me. My duties and tasks are overwhelming.  Is it this way for everyone, specifically in Jan-Feb?  

In 2024 I wrote myself a Jan-Feb To Do list, I guess so I wouldn’t be surprised by anything, such as:

• It’s January 15th!  Have you paid your quarterly estimated taxes? Due today!

• Church stats (this is actually 9 separate tasks). Forget the Feb GA deadline, YOUR deadline is January 26th!

• People are clamoring for retreat info.  Better send that email soon!

• Learn the music for the retreat!  Better practice some more!  And get that song lyric sheet done and printed.

• Why are the Christmas decorations not in the attic?  Eh?!

• Where is your email inviting voters in your precinct to the fundraiser for which the deadline is in 10 days?  Better get on that!

And so on.  

I completed these tasks.

There are 55 individual items on my list for these two months.  So far I have completed 24 of them.  That’s just the regular stuff.  I have also had a $#!t-ton of stuff to do in the grassroots category, all rushed and desperate-feeling, and not part of the 55 tasks.

I feel competent to do each task individually, but not competent to complete all of them during this short time period.  I even would enjoy doing some of them, if they weren’t bunched together.  

Most of these are not yet finished.  The deadline looms.

The Common Household Husband is facing huge stresses, real and equally overwhelming.

Add to this the anxiety of just living in these times.  

And the challenges that come naturally with aging.  

And the tasks that come with our paid jobs.  

And winter storms.  

And prolonged cold.  

And the grocery store always being out of raw-fresh-not-frozen turkey breast to roast at home.

Another 2 inches of snow overnight.
Windchill in the negatives.

Had to shovel a carveout to reach
the mailbox.

These are things that even an abundant supply of tea and dark chocolate cannot cure.

Sooner or later something in the Common Household was bound to explode.  Two nights ago it did.  Both members of this household uttered harsh words.  Used nasty tones to each other.  A door was slammed.  Both members of this household went to bed angry with each other.

The next morning, thanks to both members of this household being thinking and feeling human beings, we said our apologies to each other, and acknowledged that the unbearable stress is getting to us.  

This is all while we are adequately fed, clothed, and sheltered.  I cannot imagine the trauma of those being beaten down by our own government, literally beaten, shackled, threatened, tossed around, separated from family, racially profiled, subjected to illness, disappeared.  And murdered. All that is brought to us by several unfeeling, greedy, racist human beings, and moreover by their enablers who hope to profit.   Never forget that human beings are capable of what they are doing.  

All this is to say, please take care of yourselves and each other.  The Common Household Husband and I said out loud that we must recognize when the stresses are getting overwhelming for each of us, and take extra precautions not to act or react harshly.  

Please do gather in groups of people who will care for and look out for each other.  

Please do art.  

Please do music and singing.  Keep a song in your pocket. Here is mine for this year.

Find beauty.  Encourage each other.  As the scripture I heard today says:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  - Philippians 4:8

Pie should be on that list in Philippians 4:8.

Hands off, you jagoffs!

 Sunday April 6, 2025

Yesterday, April 5th, was a very good day.  As good a day as I could hope for given the current situation.  The spring blooms are starting to show, and so is The Resistance.

TL;DR - our Hands Off rally was a huge success.  We showed up, we listened, we yelled, we sang, we brandished signs, we marched.  I hope to God somebody noticed.  Maybe at least God noticed, although the track record might not be too promising there.  According to the Bible it took God 130 to 400 years (depending how you count it) to notice the Israelites in slavery.   Regardless, I’m in it now for the long haul.

If you went to a Hands Off rally on April 5th, I would love to hear about your experience.

 

Photo credit: Corey Buckner

The crowd extends well down the street in both directions.  Estimated attendance: 6,000+.  That’s probably me standing next to the sound equipment table, behind the pillar on the right.  Or not.  But that’s where I stood when I wasn’t trying to herd the general public off the portico.

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The excruciatingly long version, which I write mainly so I can remember it later:

Three rallies in Pittsburgh

The leaders of seven grassroots groups in Pittsburgh worked together to hold one of three “Hands Off!” rallies here in Allegheny County.  (The “Hands Off!” rallies were a nationwide effort.)  

My grassroots group is Progress PA, (or if that doesn’t work you can find us on Facebook, on Instagram.  PPA is also on Bluesky but haven’t posted much there yet.  I and my good friend J, the PPA Treasurer and person who holds the group together, helped with planning.  

Our rally was held at the City-County building in downtown Pittsburgh – we had about 6,000 attendees.  At the same time, another grassroots group, called “50501” (Fifty-fifty-one), held their rally at Schenley Plaza near the University of Pittsburgh. I haven’t seen any attendance estimate for that.  

Then later in the afternoon, there was a Hands Off! rally in Shadyside at the corner of Fifth and Shady Aves, hosted by a woman who has been bravely holding a one-woman daily protest at that location – that one had about 1,200 in attendance.

5 PM rally crowd at Fifth and Shady Aves.   I wasn’t at this one. 

 Photo credit: Rory M. 

Who was there

Our downtown rally had 10 (!) people slated to speak, including Conor Lamb, my former congressperson, and candidate for US Senate in 2022, who lost to John Fetterman in the primary.  Most Democrats I know now keenly rue that loss.  Only one of our speakers couldn’t be there.  

Other speakers were a disability rights activist, a reproductive rights storyteller, a trans activist, a public health advocate, a queer activist, a union leader, a chemistry prof, and the executive director of the PA Democratic Party (he did the most cussing of all of them).

Several members of Progress PA were able to attend, and helped with carrying stuff and herding wanderers off the portico.  

Pittsburgh Raging Grannies.  Photo credit: Heather Mull

We also had The Pittsburgh Raging Grannies, a singing group that writes alternative progressive lyrics to well-known songs.  At one point they led the crowd in singing the first verse of “America the Beautiful” (regular lyrics).  It was heartwarming to hear our huge crowd of patriots sing.  Then they launched into their own lyrics, of which here is one verse: 

How beautiful it could have been

Without unending greed,

And special interest politics

Have made our nation bleed.

America! America!

Where is the Bill of Rights?

All our dreams have been replaced

By rampant corporate might.

Chantress

For our Hands Off rally, I was put in charge of chants - pulling from various sources and writing some original ones.  I had about 10 days’ warning, but found the portion of my brain concerned with rhyme and meter is not what it had been.  (For instance, I wrote this in 2013.)  

I did come up with a chant in which the crowd’s response was “Hands off, you jagoffs!”  Jagoff is a local derogatory term which means “jerk” but it is more insulting than that.  

In high school, I would have been voted “Least Likely to Raise Hand in Class” and definitely “Least Likely to Stand In Front of a Crowd and Shout”.   But incipient fascism calls all of us to strange duty – I was tasked with doing crowd warmup with those chants, before the event start-time. 

Before the rally I printed off 3 copies of my 15-pages of chants, in 14-point font.  I didn’t have time to memorize anything.  I also did not have much time to practice, because these days I’m:

• writing snarky-furious letters to my Senators, 

• managing our grassroots group Progress PA 

• helping to plan for three more grassroots upcoming actions,

• learning better how to use the voter list app,

• getting ready to door knock on behalf of School Board candidates, 

• working as a member of the anti-racism team at church, 

• singing in the Lenten choir, 

• cooking for Passover,  

• reading books. 

All good stuff.  But overwhelming. Oh yeah, and paid work (part-time).  

I put my chant papers on a clipboard that says [Younger Daughter’s Name], glad to be taking some family support with me.

What I brought

In addition to personal items (keys, cell phone, tiny wallet w/drivers license,

a bit of cash, a credit card, bandaids, asthma inhaler) I also brought:

• Cap in case of light rain

• Umbrella in case of heavy rain

• Sturdy comfortable shoes

• pb&j sandwich

• a very old box of Froot Loops that I found in the closet

• Water bottles

• Kleenex

• Lip balm

• Cough drops

• 3 printed copies of rally chants

• 5 letters from me to my Senators, including 3 handwritten, 2 printed

• Tiny flags: US, trans, LGBTQ

• Bigger American flags (about 25-inch pole, so still not huge)

• Rally sign with message (double-sided), wrapped in plastic.  I hate using the foamcore and doubly hate wrapping it in plastic, but heavy rain was predicted and for this one time, I didn’t want to mess around with a floppy peeling sign.

Before the end of the rally, I had left the bigger American flags behind

in a pile somewhere, and the people who had borrowed my rally chants

papers were at the opposite end of the march from me.  I only used my

rally sign during the march, as my role prevented me from holding on to

it during the speeches.  

Rally Day

On Saturday my good friend J and I arrived at the City County building at 11:30 AM and helped set up stuff.  We soon found our friend B, who also helped set up. At 12:15 PM I led chants for 15 minutes.  When I mentioned Senator Fetterman, there was a HUGE growl/ groan/ boo which took me aback – special animosity for our Dem Senator who has collaborated with the Musk-TrumPutin regime.  

Then the rally started in earnest at 12:30.  My voice was hoarse by then.  After a while I began to feel dehydrated, so I drank one whole bottle of water.  Not a mistake, but there were consequences later.  The rain held off.

Leading rally chants before the event starts in earnest

(sign language interpreter on the right).    Photo credit: Heather Mull

My other assignment was to keep random people from the crowd off of the portico, for the security of the speakers.  My friends J and B also helped with this.  It proved to be a near impossible task. A few people from the crowd came up on the portico to ask if they too could speak.  Ummm, NO.  One person told me she was dissatisfied with the first speakers because they hadn’t been using expletives.  “I just want to say ‘Fuck Donald Trump’,” she calmly explained.  (Later speakers used plenty of expletives.)  A few people just wanted a photo from up there. 

My former Congressperson (now private citizen) Conor Lamb speaks.  Photo credit: Heather Mull.

I heard almost none of the speeches, because the sound was distorted on the portico where I was.  I can tell you with certainty, though, that scientists speaking at rallies need to shorten their speeches.  I’ve been to several rallies now with scientists speaking 10-15 minutes.  Somebody please tell the scientists to just prepare an abstract!  No supporting evidence needed at a rally.  

Whenever there was a pause in the speaking, someone in the crowd would start their own chant.  Everyone was energized.

A few times I did go down into the crowd, to get some photos. The crowd extended way down the street both ways, and also into the parking lot across the street.   A congenial and yet angry bunch of people.  

The rally was a huge success.   Church friends and other friends later confirmed that whereever they were in the crowd, everyone was pleasant, friendly, and helpful.  The speakers and chants were invigorating.   The crowd stayed for a whopping 90 minutes listening to speeches.  I felt weak and dehydrated again so I drank more water.  There was one incident of fainting (not me).  One Progress PA board member, T, was nearby; T’s spouse L, who is a nurse, was able to assist until the paramedics arrived.  Thank you, L!  Such events often have at least one fainting incident. 

National reports noted that none of the Hands Off rallies around the country included violence.  (Unlike Jan 6, 2021.)

Marching to Mellon Square

The speeches ended, and we marched up Grant Street, turned the corner and marched down Liberty Ave to Mellon Square (which is not the same as Mellon Park or Bakery Square).  Waiting for us at Mellon Square were the giant Trump Chicken, and a tent with a place to drop off letters to be hand-delivered to our Senators. (I dropped off my 5 letters.)  A saintly person brought water bottles for marchers.  I was still parched, so drank more water.

The Trump Chicken.  Photo credit M.H.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make

At Mellon Square we had one more speaker - a rep from an immigrant rights organization, substituting for the original speaker who couldn’t be there.  It started to rain.  By this time my bladder was like to burst, but I ignored it.  The director of the event unexpectedly asked me to lead a few more chants, but my three printed sheets of chants had disappeared, so I had to read them off my phone, in the rain.  We did a few, including this one (sing-chant):

I don’t know but I’ve been told

The people here are mighty bold!

And there’s one thing clear to me

The people here have unity!

Lies and threats will not divide

The People marching side by side!

Which I discovered afterwards is based on a US Marine Corp running cadence!  

Leading chants at Mellon Square,
near the end of the rally.

Finally at around 3 PM our resistance action ended.  My bladder said,

"Hey, it's been 4.5 hours." We trudged to the car and J sped us home

to her waiting bathroom.  I have to remember next time not to have

ANY TEA AT ALL the morning of a rally.

We will see if anyone pays attention to our effort.  Regardless of

what we do, spring has arrived and the trees are blooming beautifully. 

While I do like spring, my favorite season always is the fall

… of the patriarchy.

Ashes to Ashes, Spoons to Spoons

Smash the patriarchy

 

How my Ash Wednesday went.

On Wednesday afternoon a kind person explained Spoon Theory to me.  The spoon is a metaphor for the mental - physical - spiritual energy each of us has in a day to devote to our daily tasks.  Imagine each of us is allotted a certain number of spoons for the day.  Some days, it can take a person, say, 5 spoons to just get out of bed; other days it takes that person zero spoons.  For some people, calling their Senator uses hardly any spoons; for me it’s a high spoon cost.  It always makes me nervous.

And then the kind person showed me what it says on her wall: “It is okay to run out of spoons.”  Given the frenetic pace I have been on, for political activity, I needed to hear this.  And it was refreshing to have Kind Person listen to me.

 

That blessed conversation ended.  I began to feel some nasty heartburn, something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.  I realized that I had forgotten to take my heartburn medicine for three straight days, because I was distracted by the decline and fall of Western civilization.  Heartburn uses up some spoons, for sure.

That evening we set out for dinner and Ash Wednesday worship – my Jewish husband and I.  I wore the button (pin) that I have decided to wear everywhere.  It says, “No Kings” (see photo above).

We sat at a round table at a gathering of three local churches, eating delicious homemade soup.  Small talk with strangers is not my strong suit, but it is something society needs to help us get along.  At first we discussed the various soups - a safe and pleasant topic.  Then one person at our table – from a different church than mine – told us about his real estate endeavors - houses he has refurbished and rents out.  Excellent.  He has contributed to the common good through his business.  

Landlord Guy then went on to complain about how the county executive raised the real estate tax by 36%.  “But no, she wouldn’t cut jobs or cut county spending.  Instead my renters have to pay 36% more.”  I said nothing.  I don’t know this man at all, so I felt it was pointless to start an argument about taxes.  Someone else at the table said, Did you hear that the USAID money has been restored?  Landlord Guy responded, “I bet Chelsea Clinton is real glad about that!  All that money from USAID goes straight to the Clintons!”  I could not listen any more.  I got up quickly and left the table without saying a word. 

I suddenly had no spoons left. I went to the sanctuary.

Shortly after I left the table, the worship service started.  As I was in line to receive the imposition of ashes, the woman behind me tapped my shoulder and whispered to me, “I like your pin.”  My “No Kings” pin.  I was grateful and thanked her.  This woman restored to me a spiritual spoon. 

No kings but Jesus.