I CONFESS. Recently I have heard a total of 15 minutes of Rachel Maddow and 20 minutes of Ari Melber. Much worse, for weeks I have been checking out extended moments of Nicolle Wallace's show. I could not have lived this long if I had not gone into denial and gotten my work done. I still will not talk politics with anyone except for momentary lapses in this house with one other person, but with Impeachment under way, so at least it will have been attempted, I can bear the corruption. I can't any more clean up the air and water and earth, and I got rid of Nixon only until that day Ford pardoned him, and I can't assure a clean happy world for all the grandchildren of the world, but I will do what I can to stay alive long enough to make a study of genealogy as involved in the history of the South. See the ending of the post a few days ago, "'Goddamn Okies': The Loss and Retrieval of Historical Memory." I've got to pack more boxes of books and papers for shipping to Pittsfield, but after then I can start looking at stories to put into GLIMPSES, vivid, shocking, pleasing, harrowing stories about (usually in their own words) or even by kinfolks from the 1600s on. This study ought to be a model for many Okies who go back to the Choctaw Nation and the Cherokee Nation, and who, starting with no documents, can now retrieve thousands.
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