Lilith and I ran into S and J on our way out of the cemetery; we went over to say hello. Soon enough, S says: "haven't seen much of Joe lately." "He was at the funeral of the politician who was assassinated by the MAGA guy," I say. S guffaws. "That was CIA! You need to do your research."
"It's going to become a thing," says J. "Anarchy. Lots of politicians killed." They're all corrupt, says S. Over 80% of them. Both sides. Awful. J says he's a "free thinker, an independent." When I respond that he's a Trumper, he says yes, he loves Uncle Donnie.
"I just want to weep every day,"I tell them. "This is not the country I grew up in." "What did you like about that country?" asks S. "The sense of possibility; the way people were getting more rights, not fewer." What rights? "Civil rights, women's rights, LGTBQ rights." "You haven't cared about LGTBQ rights all your life!" S retorts. "Ever since I was a child, I wanted people to have more rights."
J: "They're forcing their agendas on us. Drag shows! LGBTQ in our faces, all the time." "I have two dear friends in Waikiki, men, who are married." "That's ok with us!"
S walks off. B and I say a few more words, pointless ones, I guess. "See, we can still express our opinions to each other," he says. "But really, I just want to cry," I say. "Do you want a hug?" I said no.
At the entrance to the cemetery, a small woman with a baseball cap on (turned out it read "Samoa") was taking pictures of the sign, and of McDonald's across the street. She'd put down a bag. I offered to take her picture, and she lit up. Yes, of us! So I took one of her, then we did a selfie in front of the sign and she made sure to get contact information so I could send her the photo. Her phone rang. Gotta get this. She was telling someone where she was, how she'd been shopping so she could make fried rice ("Everyone loves my fried rice!"). She said she was with a new friend, Susan.
Turned out we were walking the same way, so Lilith and I accompanied Ato to Hui Kelu, where I peeled off. She said she was 82, has 11 grandchildren and 14 great grandchildren (or vice versa). Her son lives way up the hill, looks down on the cemetery from the back. She didn't want a ride there, she said, clutching her blue bag with a tin foil cooking pan sticking out. She said she'd be in touch.
As Lilith and I headed down Hui Kelu toward home, "Susan!" rang out from one of the townhouses. It was Jarod, who looks Trump but talks Sanders. We talked on and on about how sick we feel at the state of the nation. My memory is running low, but there were--as ever--lots of F and S words. He's been on MAGA sites lately, pretending he used to be MAGA but doesn't understand any more. The things they write back to him. And the hate. The racism. Jarod doesn't get it. How can they be such racists? How can Americans be so stupid?
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