Bitterness and Sweetness on this New Year

My local Starbucks is going to be closed next Monday. As if things haven't gone haywire enough.

Claudette, the brassy and buxom blond barista with the thick Colombian accent who refers to me as "grande blonde" (I am neither) on days when she's slower to remember my name than my order, delivered the bad news along with my coffee yesterday. Still in an un-caffeinated stupor, I could muster up little more than shock and a smidge of panic. 

Rosh Hashanah has arrived, and almost everyone I know -- religious affiliation notwithstanding -- seems to be banking on this day for a shift in collective perspective. I posted my official Facebook wishes for health and happiness to everyone I've ever met early yesterday, thinking I'd get a jump on a little positivity. Lots of folks seemed to share my impatience; virtual hugs and kisses exploded like fireworks on my newsfeed. 

Was it enough to soften the edges of the catastrophes dominating the "real" (or, if you will, "fake") news? Not even a little. Hurricanes to end all hurricanes. Earthquakes to end all earthquakes. Climate change and rings of fire, conspiring to remind us just how small we really are. Kleptocrats and a good chunk of the Grand Old Party, conspiring to remind us just how small our government has become. I watch footage of regular people, some of whom have already lost a lot, picking through debris with their bare hands, emboldened by the faint hope of rescuing just one person. I watch footage of others, more fortunate, rushing in to give hope to the hopeless, lend a hand and a little bit of heart. 

I watch footage of clusters of white men in dark suits, working feverishly to ensure that privilege remains just that -- privilege. The good fortune reserved to a select few, entitlements for the entitled. That which the forces of nature cannot take away, Republicans will.  A president consumed with his own personal gain, chomping at the bit to sign his name to anything, no matter how inhumane. Soiling the White House, taking a break this week to soil the United Nations and insult entire continents. Still, he almost seems less repulsive than the buffoons on the Hill. There's something to be said for being genuine. At least he never had a soul to sell. 

It's going to be sunny today, the way its supposed to be on the Jewish High Holidays. A little warm for late September, but far be it from me to complain about the weather this hurricane season. The ground beneath me, here in Illinois, is quiet and still, and the air conditioning is working. 

I will pray, in my own way, today, for peace love and understanding and other stuff, like health care and human decency and generosity and compassion -- the things that lots of ordinary and not so ordinary people still seem to value. And I will pray, early and often, for a good coffee option on Monday, and a return to brassy and buxom Claudette on Tuesday.