Some women born before women in the United States got the right to vote, in 1920, are now casting their votes for Hillary Rodham Clinton. Like the symbolism Michelle Obama spoke of about being a black family waking up in a White House built by slaves each morning, the thought of women born into a world in which they were disenfranchised at the polls and are now about to cast a ballot for a female commander in chief speaks volumes.
In the Atlantic, Megan Garber reviews Ina Garten’s new cookbook, Cooking for Jeffrey, in which Garten evidently reveals that she makes her husband challah, and that he enjoys other “traditional Jewish dishes.”
As I’ve told all who will listen, the strangest thing about this election, to me, has been less that my country might be going totalitarian (I’ve read enough Hannah Arendt to know that such things, unfortunately, happen) as who that would-be totalitarian leader is. It’s not someone like Mike Huckabee, who had long been my least-favorite politician, but… yup.
All time is one. Donald Trump, who emanates 1980s, is running for president against Hillary Clinton, who evokes (and weirdly stands accused of) the 1990s. Tinsley Mortimer, a socialite who suggests I’m not sure exactly which year, is now back on the scene. A Sarah Jessica Parker protagonist’s love life is on HBO. These are confusing times to be an old-millennial, and they’ve gotten that much more baffling as a long-forgotten tragedy, the murder of Chandra Levy, has made its way back into the news.
The problem, Americans had heard for years, was that we, unlike our more sophisticated counterparts across the Atlantic, expected puritanical saintliness from our politicians. Why couldn’t we just (tosses neck-scarf) look the other way, and focus on our leaders’ ability to do the job?