A Dangerous Precedent by Ardys Richards 1/10/2021

"Any attempt to impeach President Trump would not only be unsuccessful in the Senate," claimed Trump sycophant-in-chief Lindsey Graham, "but would be a dangerous precedent for the future of the presidency." tweeted by Lindsey Graham on Jan 8, 2021. 

    Un-frickin-believable! Graham is worried about precedent if Trump is impeached? I'm choking on that.

 

Yes, I'm worried about precedent, too. We should all be concerned about the precedent. I'm worried that if he is NOT impeached or forced to leave office, even if it's only one day before the end of the natural presidential term, we will have established the precedent that whoever is elected to the office of the President of the U.S. will have carte blanche to take any action he/she wants without repercussion. The precedent we will have set is that the person we elect as president is above the law. We would call that autocracy. Or worse.

Before this week, I could have never imagined that our U.S. Capitol building would be breached by anyone, not ever, but now that it has, I am stunned to find that I can imagine other ways in which that same horrific scene might have taken place earlier in this presidency.

What if Mr. Trump had gathered these rabid supporters together earlier in the election season, say for example the day that he asserted that "Democrats would bring chaos to the United States if Joe Biden wins the White House in November." Or imagine if the president had said this to his followers after he had retweeted it, "The only good Democrat is a dead Democrat." Followed by his direction, "Now, let's go over to the Capitol and ..."  And what? Kill some Democrats? His crowd came prepared to do harm that day.

    The president has the power to lead another such group to riot again, during the remaining days of this administration. A person in a position of great power has great power to incite action, good or bad. Words matter!  And I assert that the words of a president can reasonably be expected to carry more weight than mine ever will, and probably yours, too. It is impossible to absolve him from his responsibility in this terrorist attack.

The precedent that is established without any response will be that the Oval office gives the occupant license to conspire and to incite insurrection. The occupant of the Oval Office has ownership of these United States. We, the 382 million people who claim the U.S. as our nation, are merely game pieces on a giant Monopoly board that a president can play with when it suits him or her.

 

We have allowed this president to be aggrandized, to be lionized, and to serve as the leader of white supremacists in our nation. We have placed a libertine within the White House, and he has been exculpated at every step. He came into the White House without any plan to improve the lives of Americans, nor to protect the lives of Americans. His goals were to shore up the walls of our nation, to blame people of color for every conceivable ill,  to accuse our international allies of stupidity, and to play games with our economy. We have let him do it. 

When did we ever hear him state a "plan" other than, "I'm going to destroy everything Obama did." That wasn't a plan. That was a non-plan. "I'm going to build a great wall," was not a plan. He had no plan to fund the monstrosity, nor to explain how that wall would achieve anything. At best, it is a symbolic structure that drains our coffers and it provides this Mr. President with a medium upon which to paint his name and portrait. We have allowed far too much already. And for what? 

One hundred years from now what will our descendants say about this time in our history? Reluctance to impeach or otherwise remove this sitting president from the office will be seen as cowardly, careless. Our descendants will have to conclude that this was the time when the U.S. blithely sluffed off the centuries of earned credibility and importance that the position has held throughout the world.

 

A failure to act now to remove this man, will, I believe, mark the beginning of the end of the America that I love, a country where the rule of law and the laws that rule us as a nation have meaning. A country where we can disagree with one another and will defend the right of each other to do so. This is a country that prides itself on being intelligent, fair, innovative, and moral. We always like to believe that we are among the "good guys" of the world. Sadly, all of those things have been trampled nearly beyond recognition during this presidency.

 

This year, in particular, has proven that we pale in comparison to many other countries of the world. We have experienced a failure of leadership during this pandemic. The states have been relegated to bidding against each other for supplies. People of color in our country have been reminded time and time again that they do not matter as much as their white counterparts. 

I ask you to imagine what the police response would have been if the terrorists that breached the Capitol had been black. In May, our president tweeted, "When looting starts, the shooting starts." He was talking about BLM demonstrations, that by and large, were peaceful gatherings in response to repeated murders of black men at the hands of police officers. There has remained a stark difference in the treatment of black Americans vs. white Americans ever since...since always. What a difference we witnessed when the crowd was white and armed. 

To not remove this man now, and he is a mere man, from the highest office of our land establishes a precedent of carelessness and immorality within our Legislative Branch and within our country as a whole. Rather than helping our country to heal, it strikes yet another sharp blow upon us. It is short-sighted and rude. It is not an intelligent course of action. It is not fair, to anyone. It reeks of party over country. This is no way to run a democracy.

COVID 19: What Startles Me

 You know what makes me sit up and take notice?

The highway that runs past our apartment. It's a four-lane highway. Busy. Traffic night and day.

Years ago, it was the main channel leading to the only bridge across the Mississippi at Memphis. Heavily trafficked by all trucks and cars traveling cross-country through the mid-South.  Now, there are other, better bridges that cross the Mississippi between Tennessee and Arkansas. This highway below our apartment is no longer the conduit across the Mississippi, but it's still a fast way to move from downtown Memphis to the airport and diagonally through the city to the southeast.

Memphis on the Mississippi

I pretend that the whooshing back-and-forth from the highway below our balcony is the sound of the ocean. It's crashing and receding, crashing and receding. Predictable and constant.

When we moved into this apartment, my husband was particularly concerned about traffic noise. Said that it would bug him, a lot. He'd lived near a high traffic highway years ago, and it nearly drove him out of his mind. I, on the other hand, have never had that experience and was willing to deal with the traffic noise to get the best apartment we'd seen. It's bright and we have two balconies, a large one facing south (the busy highway with the airport in the distance) and a smaller one facing west, downtown and the Mississippi.

I figured we'd get used to the noise. We'd block it out...as insignificant white noise. I figured, we're on the fourth floor so it's not right outside our windows. When we're playing music, we can hardly hear it.

Today, there are sometimes gaps between the cars passing below. Sometimes a minute separates them. Maybe that doesn't sound like much, but it is distinctly different. Recently, I awoke in the night because something was wrong. What was it?

Graffiti by the 4-lane highway near us

I didn't hear any traffic! I held my breath and waited and waited to hear a car. Finally! And then I had to remain awake to be sure that the traffic would continue. The world is still turning. People are still going to work at the hospitals, police departments, groceries, pharmacies and Memphis Light, Gas and Water. The basic necessities to run a city are still operating.

Our apartment building's parking lot remains nearly full all during the work week. A few of our building's occupants are policemen and medical workers. The rest of us are apparently nonessential, or working from home, or are retired. That group would include my husband and me and one little white-haired lady.

I actually notice a little blip of optimism that gives me a start when I hear an obnoxiously loud vehicle drive by. It's gotta either be somebody that has been unemployed (and therefore should stay home) but is out doing ordinary things. How wonderful! Or is it?

OR it's a newly employed Amazon worker (the only company that's hiring) that is so busy he or she hasn't yet had the time or paycheck to fix the muffler. Probably nobody is fixing mufflers these days, anyway. Unless it's an emergency.

A muffler emergency? Hardly.

Where are these chickens' eggs?

There are a lot of things that won't happen unless they're an emergency now. Surgeries, dental work, optical exams. If hair braiding/extensions and fingernail artistry do not qualify as emergency services in Memphis, I predict that a lot of people will begin to look a little unkempt in a couple of weeks. I am still cutting Carl's hair and will revert to cutting my own hair again.

If we can't find a source for toilet paper in the next week or so, we will become desperate people.

I would love it if someone could explain to me why people are hoarding toilet paper. And eggs. I haven't heard any scientists say that diarrhea is a symptom of Covid 19. Nor have I heard anyone suggest that all of our chickens are going to die. In fact, aren't we counting on hundreds of thousands of eggs for scientists to make the vaccine for Covid 19? Is that the answer? Hordes of scientists are swooping into the grocery stores at dawn and buying up all the eggs? Highly unlikely, but then a couple of weeks ago, I would have thought a world-wide pandemic unlikely at this particular time, too.

I think about our friends wherever they are in the world. How many of us will become ill with Covid 19 in the next year? How many deaths of people that are important to me?

We realize now that it was fortuitous that we moved away from living on the boat when we did. If we had not, we would be somewhere in the Caribbean now, and unlikely to be able to leave.

Running for Grenada?

We have cruising friends that are stuck wherever they were when the pandemic struck. Antigua, Grenada, Portugal. Cruisers we know that were running hard to make it to Grenada before they closed their borders. No place else to go for a couple thousand miles.

I don't know anyone that is stuck in Italy. I am frightened for all those who are. Sailors are stuck because no other country will admit them now. Borders closed everywhere.

How many people will be cursing themselves for touching a door handle when they went to get groceries. For touching their face afterward. Or for standing too closely to the lady waiting in line for medication at the pharmacy? I think of all the times I have been annoyed at how exceedingly polite Minnesotans are when waiting in lines. Standing so far apart, I couldn't tell if they were in the queue at all. Now, I'm thinking...how smart those Minnesotans have always been. They've been practicing social distancing for generations.

Will I wonder...did a cough come from the homeless man who came up behind me when I was filling my gas tank? I didn't notice him until it was too late. He was asking for a few bucks for the shelter? Damn him. Will I become heartless? Frightened of my own family and friends? 

More than usual, I mean.

Who's the Idiot Now

All right, it was me that was the idiot after all.

Colombian street artist in Bogotá

Sometimes I just want to cry. Unbeknownst to me, there was a specific name attached to the program for seniors who want to audit classes at the U. of Memphis. Without realizing that bit of information, I had applied to the undergraduate school at the U. of M. as a non-degree seeking student, assuming that the fact that I am a senior would come out in the wash.

I thought it would be kinda like this….

“Is this a tuition-paying student? ____yes  __X__no 

“Is this a senior auditing a class without charge?  __X__yes  ____no

And then, it would be like, “Voilé. You’re an Art student. Here’s your student ID, parking permit and your Art class is over there. Welcome to the U. of Memphis and we are so glad to have you.”

No, it didn’t turn out like that at all. None of that happened today. Idiot!

I should know by now that in the Ardys world of technology, there is no such thing as a simple outcome.

Bogotá

In fact, it turns out that my lack of understanding was a total deal breaker. Although the Art class instructor had written a permit for me to register for the class, it was of no use because I hadn’t applied through the correct channels to begin with. Therefore, when I went to campus this morning to register in person for the Art class, I was informed by a very nice woman in the Registrar’s Office, exactly where I had gone wrong.  And she explained that, unfortunately, there was no fixing the error of my ways. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not in this semester. I had failed to understand how the system works. Therefore I was not invited to walk over to my long-awaited Drawing class. Once again, it was me all along.  Idiot!

Sigh...My ego has taken a hit here. It’s bad enough that every store has a different kind of electronic machine for taking one’s credit card and that I don’t always figure them out immediately. Why can’t they all be the same? And those self-checkout aisles in stores throw me for a loop sometimes. Why do I have to get help from someone to pay for my potatoes? Did you know that if you don’t put your purchase into a bag on the counter immediately, the machine chastises you? Apparently, the lack of weight on that side distresses the electronic entity.

Bogotá door in Old City

Well, I’ll tell you what distresses me. I have accepted the fact that Mrs. GPS doesn’t like it when I don’t go the way she wants, even when I know my way is just as good. And I accept that I need a card to get into my building, and into my parking lot. But I don’t like it that I can’t figure out how to get out of my gated lot the same way I came in, when I’m on foot. Why do I need to be in a car for it to work? 

And why does my car lock the back doors as soon as I get out of the car? Is that supposed to be an electronic improvement? I don't think so.

And why do we have three smoke alarms in our apartment, each of them within three feet of the other two.  And all three within six feet of the stove, so that they can all alarm every time we toast or bake anything. Who needs that much alarm in their lives?

And why doesn’t our printer work right today? The light is on and the computer says it’s connected, but the printer says it’s not connected. I don’t like these technological disagreements. I don’t know who to side with.

Old City Candelaria, Bogotá

I haven’t learned how to work our TV yet. Frankly, I’ve never understood why we need to have two remotes for one TV, and now, it’s even worse than it was when we lived on land before. Because now, there are even more kinds of option thingies like Roku and Hulu and blah, blah, blah and god knows what all else and I’m afraid to touch the dumb thing. Do you know that two days ago, we actually had to have someone from the front desk at our motel come up and show us how to make the TV screen come on? 

My phone is annoying, too. It comes up with bizarre quirks that baffle me. The latest weirdness is that the screen sometimes zooms in on a single point on a map so closely so that I can’t see anything! And when I try to correct it, the screen backs off into outer space. I don’t want that much perspective on my home planet.

Am I just complaining like a frustrated senior (with a small “s”) now? Why yes, in fact, I am. All of these “improvements” are great, I suppose. Some of them lead to advances in medicine? Helping people to live longer and all of that…that’s a good thing. But all the rest of it? I just miss when things were a little simpler.

The Idiot Attempts to Take a Class

I learned shortly after arriving in Memphis that seniors (with a small “s”) in Tennessee may audit classes at schools of higher education, tuition-free! What an Awesome Deal! (with a capital “A” and “D”). So I jumped right on it.

Now, I am one of those (some may say “nerds”) who likes going to school. I just love the whole concept of sitting and listening while someone else dishes out information like it’s water bubbling up from an underground spring. I am intrigued by classes in Anthropology, Archaeology, Architecture and Art. And I haven’t even gotten into the “B” section of the Departments listed yet. It is also important to the telling of this story that I am notoriously challenged when it comes to navigating problems on the computer. I could confess to the number of times I have cried over my laptop but it would be too embarrassing for both of us. Suffice it to say, I approach computers with a prejudicial view that I cannot possibly succeed.

Spring 1978 -- I had room in my undergraduate schedule for one elective when I was in my Senior year and so I took a Drawing class. The professor thought I had real potential. “Tsk tsk,” he clucked when I told him I was actually majoring in Social Work. So, here I am, 42 years later, trying to register for a Drawing class at the U of Memphis. Take another look at that untapped potential.

In mid-November I applied to the U of Memphis as a non-degree seeking student. I sent in the paperwork and the $45 application fee via the USPS.  In December, I received an email that documentation was missing: a Tennessee D.L. and birth certificate or passport.  I scanned my Florida driver’s license and passport and emailed them to Admissions, plus filling out another whole application for admission. That was December 18^th. I was told that all documentation was received and I should be hearing soon from the Admissions Office.

December 23.  I received another email from Admissions. Documentation Missing, again…the D.L. and passport or birth certificate.  I worried about the fact that my drivers’ license is from Florida, but I couldn’t talk to anyone about that until Jan 2^nd since everything was shut down on campus. A little worried that I may not be admitted.

So over the Christmas break, I rescanned my documents along with a detailed explanation about how my legal address was in Florida because we had just moved here from the sailboat, and I had actually never lived IN Florida anyway. So, Memphis, Tennessee was my true residence.

Come January 2020. Another email from Admissions: Documentation missing…the same d*** D.L and passport or birth certificate. Unbelievable! I was visiting in Minnesota by that time. I called Admissions. Told them the name of the person with whom I had been emailing in December. Explained that I’d already sent this documentation twice. What more could I do? Exasperation in my voice. Undoubtedly. In fact, I can feel my throat tighten up now just thinking about it. The pleasant lady asked me politely to resend the documentation just one more time, please, to her. The FL D.L. was okay, but oddly enough, I do not carry my passport and birth certificate around with me while traveling in the U.S. Imagine that!

Side Note: Before we moved onto the boat, I used an app called Evernote and I scanned hundreds of documents…passports, D.L.s, Carl’s citizenship papers (he’s Canadian, by birth), Health Care Directives, Long-Term Care policies, insurance policies, marriage certificates, boat ownership, etc. including my birth certificate, into it. Yay! ßconsider this a fairly subdued “Yay” since my frustration level was elevated.  So, (groaning) I resubmitted the D.L. and birth certificate. (Current passport was never scanned into the app, Evernote. Admissions sent me another letter within 3 minutes…all was received. I had been accepted, but perhaps I should wait until I received the letter via email to register for the class.

So, it was Jan 8^th by then. Classes start at U. of Memphis on January 20^th.  Heightened anxiety creeping into my otherwise nice visit to Minnesota. Went on to my MacBook to return to the U of Memphis portfolio that I had made for myself when I applied in December and had received a 9 digit U#, otherwise known as an ID#.  My MacBook was not cooperative. I wanted to try to register for the class. I figured that within the U of M system, they would see that I’d been admitted. But, I could no longer get into my  portfolio.

Jan 8. Called the IT Dept. Was told that my problem was, “You don’t have an advisor.” He told me, “When you get an advisor you will be able to register.” I was skeptical about that and I told him so. I had read everything about non-degree students I could find. Nowhere did it say that non-degree students need an advisor. So, I was “helpfully” transferred to the Academic Advisory Office where I remained on hold for ~30 minutes.  Was then advised that I did not need an advisor. *%!&%**

Jan 9^th afternoon. My first available opportunity to resume efforts because, guess what? I do need to do other things while in MN aside from trying to register for just one fr***in class at U. of Memphis). I found the congratulatory admission letter in my email. Immediately tried to register for the Art class.  Nope. My MacBook continually gave me an error message, and it gave me questions to answer about my immunization record, which I had answered in previous paperwork!!? I called IT. The young IT person said “the reason you can’t register is because immunization documentation is missing.” Pffftt!! I told them that couldn’t be the problem. Admissions sent me my acceptance letter. The terribly young IT boy said, “Doesn’t matter. Records still have to be received.” D*** IT Dept! Was told to call back to Registrar’s Office.  Again.  Dutifully and with visions of strangling some young person in the IT Dept., I  followed IT’s direction. Called Registrar’s office…was on hold there~45 minutes!! “No, no immunization records needed. Tell IT it’s is a technical problem.”  Ayyeegggghh! Of course it is! And “it’s not me being an idiot,” I wanted to scream.

Jan 9^th. Called IT again. Explained that the system would not allow me to go where I needed to go, in order to register. A pleasantly unhelpful and technically meaningless phone conversation ensued. Was told to call the Registrar again. A very nice woman at the Registrar’s office took pity on me. Allowed me to walk her through what was happening with my MacBook. So she gave me the numbers for the class and I entered that into the system. The Class is closed.  The kind Registrar woman advised me to email the professor to request permission to get into the class anyhow.

"The Professor works part-time. "*$#@* Of course, she does!  “I hope she checks her email today,” she said. As of this moment, I am not yet registered for a class. Whether I will be registered by Jan 20 is anybody’s guess. Oh, and I discovered when I tried to request a parking permit that I will be sent one after I’ve registered.  This feels like some sort of wretched game using building blocks. Add two blocks, one falls off. Add two more blocks, a different one falls off the other side. Grrrr. But at least it’s not because I’m an idiot this time……

I’m pretty sure.

Weird Memphis

I don't consider a decorated garbage receptacle weird. It's creative.

There are some weird things I have noticed about Memphis. And when I say “weird,” I do not mean it in a pejorative way. I only mean to say, these are things that have surprised me, more than some other things in this new (to me) city.

A yard sign that reads:

“Obituaries by Tony. 

Starting as low as $95.”

This is a profession that I have never considered, but perhaps I should look into it. I’d especially like the challenge of “making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear” if the need arose.

I don't think this is weird either.
Rather, it is very clever.

Drivers that I call “hockey players” abound. Some drivers, while preparing to move into my lane in front of me, first spend time traveling within my lane right alongside me before finally completing the lane change. Perhaps only 8” away from my car door! It is terrifying! These drivers operate a lot like hockey players that swoop and swerve around and in between other skaters, cutting the corners as they zip past. We’ve had three near sideswipes in as many days.

Hattie B's, get yer hot chicken here

All doors on houses and commercial buildings sport the very same door, no matter whether it’s a shack or a mansion, the very same door. A ubiquitous heavy glass door with iron bars. Whatever company manufactures these doors has made a killing in the Memphis market.

Although we are in a city, there are too few options for someone with a penchant for sewing to purchase supplies. And the one, and only one genuine fabric store is 30 minutes away. Unbelievable!

Found parked next to our car. Not weird.
Just creative advertising.

Alternatively, there are lots and lots of restaurants around us. I googled “restaurants within 20 miles.” I stopped counting at 89 restaurants because there was no end in sight. Barbeque is sold at most of them, but only some of them sell take-out barbeque, which is something that is as commonplace as taking a shower. Maybe more so. (I don’t think you’re allowed to live in Memphis if you don’t like barbeque.)

New boots, to blend in.

All women wear black short boots when they go shopping, and apparently wherever else they go, as well. I finally bought some in an effort to blend in. Maybe this is a nation-wide phenomenon and I just don’t know it because I came here from a sailboat.

Many of the young people here wish they lived in a colder climate. You can tell who they are because they wear down coats and Ugg boots as soon as the temperature drops below 60 degrees.

Eating at Stone Soup, Midtown. My husband
loves a nice bowl of greens. I'm eating the
excellent grits in a bowl.

When entering certain grocery stores, I see people coming out with shopping carts filled with greens: mustard greens, turnip greens, collard greens…huge bundles of them. Are they feeding their entire neighborhoods? Can I live there?

Grits are delicious! Especially when made with bacon and butter. I felt compelled to buy some to make at home. If that’s not weird, I don’t know what is.

Our washer and dryer, conveniently
located on our balcony.

It is not unheard of to have a washer and dryer that lives outside. I can say this with confidence because ours are outside in a little room that is built on our balcony. So, yes, I go outside onto the balcony now to wash clothes. Even in the winter. I sure didn’t see that coming.

You can buy anything and I mean anything on Facebook Marketplace. Who knew? Sellers place the item on their front porch and the buyer drives up, slips the money under the Welcome mat or in the mailbox and takes the item away. The buyer and seller never even see each other. Genius!

I accidentally left my wallet lying on a display of Pepsi cans in a gas station in a neighborhood where I am told not to stop after dark. When I realized where I’d left it and returned to the gas station, my wallet had been turned in to the cashier and there was nothing missing! Gasp!

 

Prince Mongo's "Castle"

And lastly, the following is by far, the very weirdest of all. Without our awareness, we have moved next door to a well-known “castle.” Visitors always want to take a look at it from our west balcony. The “castle is owned by the self-named Prince Mongo. He is known citywide, even nation-wide. He has run in nearly every mayoral race in Memphis since 1991. He has lost each time, quite badly in fact. He has had strong disagreements with his neighbors over his front yard “artwork.” His artwork has included coffins, 50 toilets, mannequins, beach umbrellas and Christmas trees in February. He has stated that his Christmas changes “depending on the moon and the energy lines.” He has drawn attention to himself by howling at the moon from his rooftop, walking an invisible dog and always going barefoot, even in the winter. When he hears that somebody thinks he’s crazy, he states that he is, in fact, “misunderstood.”

Prince Mongo made national news when he appeared in court for violations of dumping trash in an enemy’s yard. The reason he made national news was because of his apparel in the courtroom: green body paint, a green cape, green goggles and he was wielding a rubber chicken. (It is unclear to me whether he was wearing anything under the green cape). When the judge ordered him to wear normal clothing in the courtroom he refused, and was jailed for 10 days and fined $13,875.

 

Built in late 1800's to
resemble a castle

The prince states that he is the 333-year-old Ambassador who came to Earth from the planet Zambodia. Prince Mongo’s mother, Mrs. Hodges (no royal title) would likely disagree and say that she named her son Robert. The prince is a former nightclub owner and owns several pieces of real estate here in Memphis. His other homes are in Virginia Beach and a million-dollar mansion in Fort Lauderdale. His stated plans for the future include starting a Zambodian Planetology Church, which he says, “will be a very interesting church.” (I can’t imagine anyone disagreeing with that prediction).

You can’t make this stuff up.