I've been alone on a soapbox at my parish (Anglican) for years. My church offers first rate music at the later mass, but the execution makes me cringe throughout. Singing out of tune is not even on my list of complaints. I adore many of the traditional hymns, esp. those with great composers like Bach and Cruger,  and lovely harmonies. To me a hymn lacking  harmony is a waste of time. The parts of the mass + the propers are always sung and/or chanted, one setting for most of the year, 2 different settings for Advent and Lent, one of which is in Latin. The choir, of which I'm a member, sings a Mozart, Palestrina, or de Victoria mass at Christmas and Easter, and Sundays a lovely motet at communion. The motets are musically proscribed, the chanting is not. The choir takes liberties with the meter and note value on the former and everyone sings the latter as mechanically as WOPR in War Games. 

But Alleluia! The choir is on summer break which allows me to go to the early, music-free mass.

Dallas/Fort Worth annually hosts some art exhibit that is showing here only or here and 3 other cities in the US. I've always lived in the suburbs so walking anywhere for entertainment is not what I've ever experienced. I have grown to prefer and/or appreciate wide skies, bright sunshine, air conditioning everywhere, very mild winters, live oaks, the Texas twang, front and back lawns for everyone, and space. I would wish Dallas was smaller, but because of family, I'd not think of moving away from it. I dread having to go downtown so living in a place that feels enclosed and busy like that gives me the willies. Only 1 year while at college and 1 year as an adult did I have to call an apartment my home. Spending a life in a high rise or even an historic brownstone seems sad to me.

My preference is to act like I didn't hear the crude jokes or double entendres, and with no encouragement they might cease. It's worked for me in a couple of small groups, not a paid work environment. In one instance it was interesting to note that after a few years as the only female in a small group, a performance group with regular practices and occasional performances, another female was added who did laugh or roll her eyes at their crude jokes and the guys' behavior reverted. The guys were a very decent sort to begin with, just being guys. 

I couldn't think of a creative identifying graphic so threw together a female version of the faceless fedora guy with a matching pinkish haze over all.

It looks like most responses refer to highway driving as opposed to within the city. Most of my driving is residential. Living in a city with what I think is a disproportionate amount of insanity behind the wheel, I've come to appreciate and welcome enforcement of speed limits. This city is full of road bullies. Every third person believes he owns the road. Reading all these posts makes me want to ask you all to seriously Chill Out!

Does anyone know if that old saying is true that says that the average urban driver who speeds arrives a from some seconds to a couple minutes ahead of when he would if going the posted limit? 

The newer post on rule of law appeals to me. Of all the laws on the books to object to, speed limits are among the least of these. If I'm driving the maximum speed, anyone behind me has no right to object to me, only to the law.

Please tell me your secret at controlling your tears. I am jealous. I often think I'd give everything I own for that.  Seriously. I attend a funeral, even of someone I barely know, but it leads me to think of the loss of my own loved ones. I try planting a big smile on my face, counting the bricks in the wall, planning my next vacation, any distraction, but tears come eventually. Not talking sobs. I can neither prevent the tears nor bring them on at will. Maybe a frontal lobotomy? Or is there a pill? 

I don't see the logical difference in being willing and encouraged to kill your baby 4 months after birth vs. 4 months before birth (or 6 of 9). One week after or one week before. I can't fathom the reasoning behind there being a difference. The point of birth looks kind of arbitrary to me for the death of that child. I felt that way before we had all the advances in sonograms and medical science. It need have nothing at all to do with religion. If one is unthinkable, so should the other be. Sadly, our society is creeping toward making them both acceptable. But the same logic would apply to revering the life of the person 4 months old as much as the person 4 years old, and so on. 

I think this was one of the few times I'd been able to talk about conservative issues with folks other than a couple of my siblings. That's how timid I am and that needs to change.

Thanks, Olive, for the excellent roundup.

Byron Horatio, thanks, this is precisely my own state of mind. Best of luck in Alaska.

My brother, another member, is coming after all so I don't have to fight traffic alone. Ricochet namebadge. Good idea. Which reminds me I wanted to create a female version of the facelPost Commentess avatar for myself.

Wish it was anywhere but downtown. If I make it, by what means do I identify the group? Is it a place with a host/hostess and a reservation list?

So I wonder if the common, woman on the street Liberal feels the same way as I do about guns. Too lively an imagination and nothing more, though it doesn't help with the issue.

I don't own nor am I inclined to own a gun. I'll also never be a millionaire but I hate seeing them abused for their success and would vote to protect their wealth.

My family, I guess by law of inheritance, my mother, owns 3 old guns. One was carried by her grandfather when he was a jail guard in Waco. Not a good guard, as it turns out, because Clyde Barrow stole his gun from him in an attempt at escape. I don't know if it's the same gun. It's cool, though. And my father's grandmother carried and used a now disabled double barreled shotgun which figured in a sort of mythical tale dad used to tell of her. I'm fond of the guns for their history.

My cringing reaction at the thought of using or being near guns is exactly the same as that of using or watching someone use a table saw. I actually have to close my eyes when I see power saws being used in home improvement shows. It's a scary tool, but useful in the right place, the right hands, just not mine, thank you.

I think that until we can imagine and then assume the worst, we can never hope to get ahead in this game of politics. We're always on defense and never on offense, always surprised at the lengths to which they will go, the ideas they'll entertain, shaking our heads with stunned looks on our faces. How can we so easily dismiss the possibility of another EO when this administration overreaches all the time and gets away with it? If you've been paying attention, you shouldn't dismiss this, or any other crazy-as-a-loon notion a Liberal might toss around. I don't know what improving our offensive position looks like. Not criminal. Not violent. Following through with the sports metaphor, I just wish our team had a better playbook and smarter coaches. You know the other team doesn't play fair, doesn't care about rules and the referees want us to lose. (Ha. I have no interest in sports.)

Of the whole list, I can afford only the cell phone. And yet, I am a Conservative! But yes, it seems like yesterday that mobile phones were exotic. I remember the awe I felt when I encountered my first fax machine; the kind with the roll of paper with a chemical coating. I realize they existed decades before but not in every business. My office still maintains one, but we shake our heads at those who haven't moved beyond them yet. That brings to mind the rapid progress within the publishing business, where I work. When I started my current job, 13 years ago, ad artwork came as photos sent or carried from agency to printer. No such thing as a pdf to be simply emailed. 

My happiest moment of the season was hearing that Cajun fiddle.