When Sen. Warnock won his senatorial seat in Georgia last Tuesday, I immediately began thinking of the implications. 51 Democrats in the Senate would mean that the President’s entire agenda could be passed during this lame duck session of Congress without much difficulty.
Democratic lawmakers had already told us that they were trying to push through all twelve of the President’s stalled bills prior to January 3rd, when the new congress will be sworn in. Those packages include the American Rescue Plan, another infrastructure bill, last year’s omnibus bill, a veteran’s fund, food stamp and healthcare increases, semiconductor subsidies, the rest of the Inflation Reduction Act, and student loan forgiveness.
The additional Senate seat would mean that even if one Democrat didn’t go along with the program, the Administration would still be able to push through its agenda, given the tie-breaking ability of the Vice President. And if those bills were passed, it would mean an additional Federal spending increase of 10.3%.
I wondered why they weren’t scheduling any votes when a news flash came across the wire that explained everything.
Sen. Krysten Sinema of Arizona, announced yesterday that she was leaving the Democratic Party to become an Independent. When you added in the expected “no” vote of Sen. Joe Manchin (D. W.Va), it all made perfect sense.
They don’t have the votes.
That being said, it should be known that I don’t completely object to all of the bills. There are individual portions of those bills that would be great for our nation enhancing our security and improving our competitive advantages.
What I object to is the overspending. In this period of high inflation, it’s the last thing we need. Additional spending would do nothing but further increase our already high prices.
Let me leave you with this.
We made our annual trek to Marshall Fields last Saturday. (As a true Chicagoan I refuse to use the new “M” word.) We go every year to see the windows on Michigan Avenue, do some shopping, and have dinner under the tree in The Walnut Room.
The windows this year were as unremarkable as they’ve always been since Fields was taken over by our friends from the island. There were people in the store, but the aisles weren’t half as crowded as they were prior to the pandemic.
We went to the seventh floor and sat at one of the tables near the bar. Few outsiders know that the secret to not waiting in that ridiculous line is to just go to the bar area and sit at one of the tables.
So we sat down, looked at the tree, and I started balling like a baby. This was the first year of my life that I’d done this without my now sainted Mother.
I sat there and remembered how I used to go there with my Grandmother as a little boy. We’d hop on the train and go downtown. They used to have an L Stop in the then Bargain Basement of Fields.
We’d sit under the tree and Granny would order me a hot dog. They’d bring it with two little silver-plated bowls; one with mustard and the other with ketchup. The fact that Fields, a true Chicago Institution, served ketchup with a hot dog still rankles to this day.
I also remembered how Fields used to have a party every year in The Walnut Room to officially open the Christmas Season with the lighting of the tree. I remembered my little girl not more than four or five, pushing the button that lit the tree with all the other children.
I remembered all the times that I’d sat in that room with Mama, eating their famous Chicken Pot Pie, and drinking way too many Martini’s. I thought of all the laughs and joy we’d no longer share which further saddened me, but then something happened.
We got up and walked around the tree. The tree was as predictably unremarkable as the windows downstairs. It was decorated with gift boxes covered in fabric, lit from within.
We continued our stroll around the tree, when it hit me like a brick. Someone had actually had the presence of mind to put Uncle Mistletoe on the tree.
For those who do not know, Uncle Mistletoe and Aunt Holly were the fictional characters that dominated the Christmas celebrations of the Fields of old. They narrated the messages of the windows on Mich Ave and we’re an ever-present fixture around the store during the season.
I stopped dead in my tracks, not believing my eyes. But there he was, in all his splendor. He was the only thing on the tree that wasn’t one of those ugly boxes; a true remembrance of the past and a bright shining beacon of the future.
For what will Chicago possibly become without any remembrances of our storied past?
We took our pictures under the tree and returned to the table where I order a Vodka Martini, up, dry, with a twist; the same way that Mama would have. I enjoyed the Chicken Pot Pie realizing that she was probably right there with us. She wouldn’t have missed that dinner for the world.
And I smiled. For the first time that day, I lit up like a Christmas tree.
May the love and happiness of the Holiday Season bring you and your family joy, now and always.
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