It's been a week

I sat at my dining table trying to write and listen to the unfolding impeachment drama at the same time. I held my breath during Rachel Maddow's interviews with Lev Parnas, the Guiliani henchman who implicated VP Pence, AG Barr, Nunes and the whole sordid lot of conscience-free Republican enablers. If there has ever been a more corrupt administration than the current one, I am not aware of it. As history was made with the articles of impeachment being handed over to the U.S. Senate this week, I felt some appreciation of the fact that, even if Senate Republicans succeed in holding a sham trial and continue to make disgraceful excuses for the president's actions, we will still have recorded for posterity the criminality of this administration.

Closer to home, my daughter and I will be in theater audiences on Broadway three times this week, as we redeem her Christmas present to me and mine to her. We always go out to dinner beforehand, and she is really the most delightful dinner and theater companion. Our talk can get very deep, though we also laugh a lot, and for me, there is absolutely no showing up or appearance anxiety. That's my girl on Tuesday evening. We met at her favorite seafood place then went to see Slave Play. It completely blew our minds. We sat there at first wondering what on earth we were watching—antebellum sexual fantasies, it turns out, followed by an intense therapeutic debriefing session among the four different interracial couples, that was gist of the play. We came away frankly confused about what the takeaway was supposed to be. It certainly provoked some thoughtful discussions on the cab ride home. Perhaps I will report in on last night's and tonight's theater experiences later.