Idiosycratic Life

Wow, I really have to be better about blogging. I only wrote once last week. Anyway, I SAW THE HARRY POTTER MOVIE!! I really, really liked it. I had a lot of fun.

Alissa and I got up at stupid o'clock in the morning to go see it- No, wait, first we got up at Really Stupid O'Clock to see the meteor showers, which were unbelieavable. I was sound asleep on Gwen's couch in DC when Gwen, Alissa, Greg (SOOO GOOD TO SEE GRAC!!!) and Heather and I ventured out to find a dark, noncloudy, fog-free place to watch them around 4 a.m. I kept falling asleep in the car, to be awoken by lovely friends as we arrived at each new place, only to discover it was too bright, too foggy, etc. to get back in the car and fall asleep again until we found a good spot. It was almost supernatural, it was so beautiful.

We then went back to sleep for an hour until Alissa and I went to the 8 a.m. showing of the Harry Potter movie. It was very fun. I think they did a really good job on it, but I have to say that I like the books better. There were some things about the movie that I actually liked better than the way I was imagining them, whihc was kind of nice. Alissa and I were both struck by the same notion that marching bands everywhere will be using the John Williams score for field shows for the next few years. We were even imagining that the drum majors will be wearing Hogwarts robes and pointed hats and the colorguard will run across the field with t-bar flags depicting the banners of each of the four houses of Hogwarts and doing guard work with various sized balls during music from the Quidditch sequences. Band geeks, never say die! :)

On a more serious note, I have a topic for discussion/comment. Thanksgiving is coming up, and as usual, we have invited a very mixed crowd of people to have dinner at our house. Some of these people are my grandmother's friends, who are middle-aged and elderly people. Now, all of you know that hold I deeply radical feminist views. Part of my philosophy regarding my politics realtes to my belief that activists who are committed to social change should interrupt racist/sexist/classist, etc. moments wherever and whenever they occur (unless they are espoused by Nick, who desperately wants a rise out of me, which I now refuse give him, because once I am officially "risen," I have, in the past, had homocidal tendencies. Those of you who witnessed the "You hate me, but you love me" incident of 1998 will attest to this). This actually has led to some very tense moments in recent months when I have been eating dinner with these people at my grandmother's house, and they make racist comments, largely relating to immigrants, people of the Islamic faith, and other people who wear turbans, including but not limited to Sikhs, people taking chemo and Daddy Warbucks' manservant Punjab, from the beloved musical Annie.

Okay, I was kidding there a little bit, but seriously... My parents were furious with me when I curtly explained, at a recent dinner, that Sikhs practice an entirely different religion altogether and such comments are inappropriate. One woman was deeply offended when she thought my grandmother had a plumber named Mohammed (his name is Mahoney) because she "wouldn't want one of those people in her house," etc, etc.

If I were to have my way, I would not break bread with these people. They would not be welcome at my table, certainly not at a celebration where we call to mind all that we are grateful for. I am of the belief that if one is not part of the solution, then he or she is part of the problem. Furthermore, I believe that if one is not outraged about oppression in all its forms, then one is not paying attention. I know that is not a popular opinion.

My mom is also uncomfortable with these people's racist comments, etc., and she believes that we should say something if racist comments are made at the Thanksgiving dinner table, but not if it would embarrass anyone. My dad thinks that these people are good at heart, that they say things out of ignorance, that they "do it for comic relief," and since they aren't actually out committing hate crimes, it's okay, we can't "teach old dogs new tricks," just let it go, it's a holiday, etc, etc. My mother said she "lives in fear" not of them saying racist things about the war, etc., but of my causing an awkward moment by not tolerating it. So.... What to do? Any thoughts?