Lunch With Jo

Daredevils

 My daughter Athena and her husband Mat are great outdoors adventurers. They love to surf, hike and even enjoyed skydiving together for their birthday one year. Growing up Athena loved thrill rides and scary roller coasters. I’m the very opposite. I can see their 5 year old Jude picked the right mom and dad as he appears fearless too. Those three had a fun day in the rain forest the other day.

 

Remembering David

 

David Siegel , a veteran producer who worked on films including "The Hangover ” trilogy, “Crazy, Stupid, Love” and more, died on Jan. 8 in Los Angeles. He was 70 years old.

Over the last four decades, Siegel contributed to a number of the most enduring studio films, collaborating with filmmakers including Kevin Costner, Todd Phillips, Rob Reiner, Penny Marshall and David Lester. As a production manager and line producer, Siegel was a part of the creation of beloved movies including “Dances with Wolves,” “Gravity,” “The Pursuit of Happyness,” “The LEGO Movie,” “War Dogs,” “Serenity,” “Holes,” “Air Force One” and “Bull Durham,” among many others. On “Final Destination: Bloodlines,” his final project, Siegel served as the executive producer.  

 Siegel was highly adept at handling the challenges that came with bringing movies to life and was widely regarded as a problem-solver and outside-the-box thinker, both of which contributed to his successful producing career. He also collaborated with studios including Warner Bros., Disney, Universal, New Line Cinema, Columbia Pictures, Touchstone Pictures and Paramount.  

 

Before Siegel moved into producing, he started his career in Washington, D.C., co-founding a location services company. He worked as a motion picture transportation coordinator for more than a decade, which provided him with the strong foundational knowledge required to flourish in Hollywood and to bring a film to screen. Siegel was a member of the DGA, PGA, SAG-AFTRA and the Teamsters union. 

Colleagues often remarked the ease at which Siegel could connect with a crew, which was one of his key characteristics. On every set he worked on, he was invaluable not only for his role as a producer but as a human presence, frequently mentoring individuals during productions and giving opportunities to hard-workers who were curious about getting involved. 

 Siegel is survived by his wife, Janet Siegel, and his daughters, Emma Sandler (Yoni) and Mollie Ennis (Sawyer). He is also survived by his sister, Judy Siegel Schmauss, and his grandchildren, Maya, Logan and Indigo. A memorial for family and friends will be held on Jan. 25.

Please Help Us Wake Up from this Nightmare

 

Minneapolis Is Not the Story. Courage Is.

Trump wants Minneapolis to look like a threat.

He wants chaos on camera.

He wants fear in the headlines.

He wants an excuse in the script.

Because authoritarian cosplay only works if you can manufacture an enemy.

So he waddles to microphones and pretends to be “concerned” about violence, pretending to care about public safety, pretending to defend order, pretending to protect Americans, when anyone with a functioning brain understands exactly what this is:

A cornered criminal staging a performance.

When Trump threatens to invoke the Insurrection Act, he isn’t talking about law.

He isn’t talking about order.

He isn’t talking about safety.

He’s talking about survival.

His survival.

This is not governance. It’s panic management.

It’s a man who knows the clock is running.

It’s a man who knows the House may flip.

It’s a man who knows that when the MAGA shield breaks, the justice system is waiting.

So he reaches for the oldest fascist prop in the playbook: martial law.

Not because the country is collapsing — but because his control is.

That’s the cosplay.

That’s the act.

That’s the fraud.

But while Trump performs authoritarian theater, something real is happening in the streets, something he cannot script, cannot spin, cannot intimidate, and cannot erase.

In subzero temperatures.

In brutal wind chills.

On the coldest day of the year in Minnesota.

People showed up anyway.

Not for spectacle.

Not for social media.

Not for performance politics.

They showed up for each other.

Thousands of people marched through Minneapolis in minus-nine-degree temperatures, with wind chills dropping to minus thirty-five, chanting “ICE out,” carrying American flags, and holding signs demanding justice for Renee Nicole Good, a U.S. citizen fatally shot by an ICE officer. People were handed warmers for their hands while they used their voices.

Earlier that morning, thousands formed a human picket line at the Minneapolis airport so long it spanned the terminal. Clergy, labor unions, immigrant groups, families, elders, students, all locking arms in an “ICE Out” day of protest. Some were zip-tied. Some were loaded onto school buses by police. About a hundred were detained. Businesses closed in solidarity. Workers stayed home. People chose conscience over comfort.

Not because it was easy, but because it was necessary.

People brought hot tea to strangers.

Food to people they didn’t know.

Warmth to bodies they’d never met.

A young business owner handed out free tea in negative twenty-degree weather because, as he said plainly: “We’ve seen this before. It always starts with one group. Then it spreads to everyone.”

That’s the line Trump fears more than any protest sign.

Because fascism never announces itself honestly.

It doesn’t say, “We’re here to erase rights.”

It doesn’t say, “We’re here to sort humans by value.”

It doesn’t say, “We’re here to normalize disappearance.”

It says: security.

It says: enforcement.

It says: order.

It says: protection.

It says: safety.

Until one group becomes the test case.

Then another.

Then another.

Then everyone.

Operation Metro Surge.

Mass deportations.

Militarized immigration enforcement.

Masked officers.

Racial profiling.

Children detained.

Families separated.

Communities targeted.

All wrapped in bureaucratic language and moral filth.

A five-year-old boy becomes a prop in enforcement optics.

Parents become “targets.”

Neighbors become “suspects.”

Citizens become “collateral.”

And Trump’s DHS responds by calling protesters defenders of “murderers, rapists, gang members, terrorists,” the oldest authoritarian trick in history: dehumanize first, brutalize second, justify later.

But Minneapolis didn’t disappear into fear.

It stood up in the cold.

And that matters more than any speech Trump gives, more than any threat he makes, more than any cosplay uniform he puts on behind a podium.

Because here’s the truth:

The most dangerous lie in America right now is not Trump’s rhetoric.

It’s the illusion of normal life.

It’s the belief that this is just “politics.”

It’s the comfort of distraction.

It’s the sedative of routine.

It’s the illusion that someone else will handle it.

It’s the fantasy that democracy defends itself automatically.

It doesn’t.

Democracy is defended by bodies in the street.

By hands that show up.

By people who refuse silence.

By people who refuse numbness.

By people who refuse to look away.

And that’s why what happened in Minneapolis matters.

Not as a headline.

Not as a news cycle.

Not as a partisan story.

But as a signal flare.

Because while Trump plays dictator dress-up, people are freezing their asses off to protect strangers.

While he threatens martial law, people are sharing tea.

While he performs fear, people are practicing courage.

While he escalates cruelty, people are choosing solidarity.

While he sorts humans by value, people are defending human dignity itself.

This isn’t about immigration anymore.

It’s about classification.

Verification.

Sorting.

Permission.

Hierarchy.

Who belongs.

Who is tolerated.

Who is protected.

Who is disposable.

And that is fascism in its early stage.

Not tanks first.

Not camps first.

Not uniforms first.

Narratives first.

Labels first.

Dehumanization first.

Normalization first.

Silence first.

Trump threatening the Insurrection Act isn’t strength.

It’s exposure.

It’s fear.

It’s desperation.

It’s the sound of a collapsing grip.

He doesn’t threaten martial law because he’s powerful.

He threatens it because he’s losing control.

He doesn’t scream about Minneapolis because he cares about safety.

He screams because he sees resistance.

And the resistance isn’t violent.

It’s moral.

It’s human.

It’s communal.

It’s relational.

It’s collective.

That’s what authoritarians fear most.

Not weapons.

Not riots.

Not chaos.

But unity without permission.

Courage without leadership.

Solidarity without hierarchy.

Human beings choosing each other over fear.

So this is a tribute, not just to protesters, but to witnesses.

To the people who refuse to sit on their hands.

To the people who refuse denial.

To the people who refuse distraction.

To the people who refuse comfort over conscience.

To the people who refuse the narcotic of normalcy.

To the people who refuse to pretend this is just another political moment.

Because history doesn’t ask who posted.

It asks who stood.

Who showed up.

Who refused.

Who resisted.

Who chose courage when silence was easier.

Minneapolis is not the threat.

Authoritarianism is.

And the people in the streets, freezing, marching, feeding each other, protecting each other, refusing fear, are not radicals.

They are the immune system.

And they may be the last line between a collapsing democracy and a normalized fascism that no one bothered to stop in time.

— Michael Jochum

Not Just a Drummer: Reflections on Art, Politics, Dogs, and the Human Condition

 

More Birthday Celebrations

 

I had another wonderful birthday party with my family.  I am so grateful, beyond words to have my wonderful brother Randy, my sister in law Barb,

 

 my loving sister Jocelyn and my brother in law Vicente

 

 

 along with my best friend Mary (we calculated 71 years of friendship since the 3rd grade) and her husband David to celebrate all occasions. 

 

 

 

Mary designed a mexican themed dinner with a delicious red pepper soup (Alice Waters recipe),

 

 

 chicken enchiladas with sour cream, guacamole, salsa fresca and salsa roja, spanish rice and a sweet corn tamale casserole. 

 

  Barb made great appetizers with home made salsa (dad's recipe)

 

 and Joce and Vicente made a great salad.

 

 

It's always special to be with my family.   

 

                              Thank you all!

Being Kind

 "Kindness matters. In the big and small ways.  Many people choose to be kind because they know what it feels like to move through dark days. They've lived inside moments that felt heavy, uncertain, or lonely, and they understand how much even a small light can matter when you're trying to find your way through.Choosing kindness doesn't mean ignoring what is real or difficult. It means responding with care

instead of closing off.  It means understanding that we never really know what someone else is going through and deciding to be generous when we can. Small moments matter more than we think. A word.

A pause.  A willingness to show up with empathy instead of judgment. These choices don't fix everything, but they can change the direction of a day. Sometimes even a life."   

Birthday Lunch for Karen and Barb and a "Book Club for Troublesome Women" or not

 

Our book club friends met for lunch to celebrate two January birthdays: Karen and me. 

 

 

The book we read is titled “Book Club for Troublesome Women!” Haha fitting!

We had intended to discuss our book but too much fun took over.