brett kavanaugh

When I was little I remember a question that often came up among sibling play.  If you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?  It was always a tough decision for me between being able to fly, or, to be able to make yourself invisible.

I think about that sometimes when I think about mom life.  There have been times when being invisible feels painful, like a part of you is actually missing, like the meaning of your life is absent if there isn’t actually another person there to testify, to witness.

Yesterday I watched the testimonies of Brett Kavanaugh and Christine Blasey Ford.  I’ve only recently heard of Brett Kavanaugh.   I’d heard snippets of the senate confirmation hearings a few times on NPR while listening to the radio in the car with my husband.  If I hear about something enough times, I’ll ask him, “Ok, so what exactly is going here?”

Politics is kind of like one big soap opera.  I used to watch Days of our Lives with my mom.  I actually got hooked on the show for a while, and actually cared about what happened in John, Kristen, and Marlena’s lives.  There was something super annoying about soap operas though.  You watched for an entire hour, and the story barely moved.

I wish I had the power to be able to tell when somebody is lying.  Something felt off about the first testimony, the way she used those big words to describe brain function and memories.  The second testimony had me briefly choked up as I listened in the beginning, then tapered off into silent moments of disappointment–unbecoming of a man.

I can’t see any reason for Ford, personally, to lie.  But I also can’t see everything.   I don’t understand why Kavanaugh had to get so attitudish with all the drinking questions–why not just be honest about it?  But I don’t understand everything.  So maybe she’s a little weird.  So maybe he’s not Mr. Strong, Calm, and Composed Under Pressure all the time.

I want to hear what Mark Judge has to say.  When I looked him up online, it said he was an American author.  When I looked him up on Amazon, his memoir, Wasted: Tales of a GenX Drunk, was out of print.  So I went and read the first chapter excerpt of A Tremor of Bliss: Sex, Catholicism, and Rock ‘n’ Roll–Wow.  I’m looking forward to reading more.

I’m not convinced he’s innocent, but yes, I can see the point about having no evidence. There have been a few articles about how mothers of sons need to take a stand against a political environment that allows what many have seen as a vicious, public defaming of an innocent man.  I’ve never even heard of phrases like “due process” before any of this.

At least not that I can remember.

Maybe I’m just burying my head in the sand–I wouldn’t put it past me.

We’re just gonna stay right here a bit longer.

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