Aunt Lydia Alito and the New Brat Pack

Wealth, power, fame and success have their many upsides but clearly they DO NOT make you significantly happier. 

If they did we would not have so many aggrieved and psychologically damaged members of those perceived upper classes currently having hissy fits and generally acting out in front of the rest of us.

Veruca Salt energy out there

No, I’m not talking about the orange obvious.  That’s a given.

Exhibit A is Martha-Ann Alito, wife of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito.  A lady so foaming at the mouth angry about the sight of a gay pride flag “across the lagoon” at her New Jersey summer house that last year she hung her own Appeal to Heaven flag – a symbol of both the Stop The Steal Campaign and the right’s effort to remake the U.S. government in Christian terms.

This woman? Really?

Secretly caught on what is now an infamous viral audio tape recorded by Lauren Windsor, a left wing political activist posing as a conservative supporter at a Supreme Court Historical Society black-tie event, Martha-Ann blustered she’s dreaming up new ways to get them, as well as all the rest of the media this summer.

You know what I want – I want a sacred heart of Jesus flag.  Because I have to look across the lagoon at the Pride Flag for the next month… I’m putting it up and I’m gonna send them a message every day, maybe every week I’ll be changing the flags.  I made a flag in my head, this is how I satisfy myself. I made a flag, it’s white and it has yellow and orange flames around it.  And in the middle is the word vergogna.  Vergogna in Italian means SHAME.  Vergogna. V-E-R-G-0-G-N-A. …Vergogna.  Shame, shame, shame on you…

Does she have an Etsy?

Yeah.  Well, Martha-Ann….f-k off.

Let me explain something.

The striped, multi-colored Gay Pride Flag – or Rainbow Flag –  was created by a small group of artists and activists in the seventies.  Its six different colors reflect the diversity within the LGBTQ community and over the years it has become a widely used international symbol of not only identity but also support from the millions of allies, aka family, friends, co-workers and acquaintances, of LGBTQ people.

Artist Gilbert Baker was the first designer to tackle the flag design.   And it was the famed gay rights leader Harvey Milk, who Baker first met in 1974, that challenged him to come up with a symbol of pride for the community.  

The original Baker flag

Eventually, Baker created a design of eight color stripes, which a team of artists and volunteers produced using a new hand-dyeing process.  They then hand-stitched the material together to create the first two flags, which made their joyous debut at the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade on June 25, 1978.

Five months later, on the morning of Nov. 27, 1978, Harvey Milk, was famously assassinated in City Hall, along with San Francisco Mayor George Moscone.  As a result, demand for this new symbol of pride was off the charts and over the years and decades it has grown in stature to become a broader symbol for inclusivity.  (Note: Though its eight color stripes had to be reduced to six due to the demands of mass production and the difficulty of producing – yes – the color of hot pink).

Long may it wave!

This story is particularly worth repeating in light of Martha-Ann’s bile-filed invectives against a flag designed to lovingly unite, rather than to divide, her fellow human beings.  And to illustrate her use of religion as a fiery cudgel of flames to presumably incinerate those not adhering to the rules of her particular sect, insults so many millions of people of faith who have become our public and private allies in a rainbow movement of acceptance.  

To actually hear the six minute recording of Martha-Ann’s gleefully venomous pronouncements against the Pride Flag, as well as so many members of the “media”  (Note:  You can do so here and see that I’m not exaggerating ) would feel like a throwback to another era were it not for this current iteration of the MAGA movement.  

I may have to just take your word for it, Chairy

With its daily attempts to turn us into a dictatorial theocracy through whichever branches of government it can reign supreme over or destroy – judicial, legislative and/or executive branch checks and balances be damned – it has long ceased being a group much interested in substantial, good faith compromise, i.e. democracy.  

This is best personified by the words of Martha-Ann’s husband, aka Justice Alito. Several weeks ago he was caught on another viral audio clip at that very same event agreeing with what he perceived to be a conservative Ms. Conrad when she stated to him that they (conservatives) had to keep pushing the country to return to a place of godliness against the opposition.  Said Alito:

One side or the other is going to win. I don’t know. I mean, there can be a way of working, a way of living together peacefully, but it’s difficult, you know, because there are differences on fundamental things that really can’t be compromised. They really can’t be compromised. So, it’s not like you are going to split the difference.

BYE NOW

Yup. That’s Martha-Ann’s husband.  One of nine people who have the final say on what the rule of law is in a country where the other 333+million of us reside.  The same guy who wrote the majority U.S. Supreme Court opinion  exactly two years ago that overturned Roe vs. Wade, leaving millions of woman unable to legally control their reproductive choices in their home states.

And the ruling was no accident.  It was part of a 30-year judicial effort (Note: Some would say crusade) led behind-the-scenes by Justice Alito.  

We’ll see how that works out for them #VOTE

And for anyone thinks he’s not coming for the Rainbow Flag, contraception or Martha-Ann’s favorite target – the media – google some of those phrases, along with a few of his speeches to conservative groups, and see what you come up with.

The judge’s refusal to split the difference with those who differ from the very fundamental beliefs of his self-imposed, very strict brand of Roman Catholicism, is perfectly simpatico with the beliefs of Martha-Ann, who even angrily quotes scripture in her audio tape.  

Though even more unhinged, at least to this Jewish writer, is when she boasts of her German lineage when asked about how she will continue to fight back against her growing number of critics.

My heritage is German. You come after me, I’m going to give it back to you.  It doesn’t have to be now.  But there will be a way.  They will know….

Um… yikes

Okay, but that’s like………bad movie dialogue no screenwriter would ever write.  

And should be of no concern to anyone except the psychiatrist she likely doesn’t go to.

Three really quick things before we begin building the Alito video dartboard for next week. 

#1 – You’d think Martha-Ann would be happy.  She’s got two houses, two healthy adult children and a lifetime’s worth of friends and connections to lean on in case anything should go seriously wrong.  (Note:  Not to mention, great lifetime health insurance).

 But she’s not.  No one who talks that way is truly happy.

It’s true!

#2 – Some of her media rage is so petty, it’s almost not to be believed.  Click on this link to an article from The Cut that will tell you in juicy detail every Real Housewives tidbit you ever wanted to know. But here’s the gist —

During her husband’s confirmation hearings to the U.S. Supreme Court 18 YEARS AGO, the Washington Post’s then fashion editor, Robin Givhan, who was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in criticism for work done the previous year its committee called “witty, closely observed essays that transform fashion criticism into cultural criticism,” dared to criticize several outfits Martha-Ann wore and, to this day, she hasn’t forgotten.

Girl, calm down

Okay, yes, it was a little – actually a lot – bitchy.  But I’ve been called much worse to my face for many a fashion faux pas over the years and, trust me, so have you – even if you didn’t hear them.  The Martha-Ann standouts were for a “charmingly awkward” baby blue cable knit cardigan that was akin to bringing your own “binky” to the Senate, and a gold tweed suit that looked like it was once upholstery from a La-Z-Boy.  

Yawn.  And have either of them ever met any gay people?

It’s giving Miranda

Nevertheless, and very true to form, a couple of weeks ago Martha-Ann was caught on that tape still seeking revenge as she recounted each written insult in great, discombobulated detail;  practically recited the transcript of the snide phone call she made back in 2007 to faux “congratulate” her writer nemesis on the Pulitzer win; and once again restated her everlasting life commitment to eventually get even with them all (Note: See video.  Again.).

#3 –For at least an hour a day all week these three words were popping into my mind: Aunt Lydia Alito.  For those who don’t know, Aunt Lydia is the nasty, unhappy past middle aged lady in the world of The Handmaid’s Tale.  What this means is that in the dystopian theocratic nation of Gilead, Aunt Lydia cattle prods young women of child bearing age into: religious obedience against their will; sexual submission to their male commanders against their will; and demands their eternal acceptance of the fact that their highest and most precious duty under Gilead law is to become a baby incubator for an unlimited array of children they would not choose to have in order to serve God.

OK but her suit is tailored to perfection

Suffice it to say that the dialogue in the five season Hulu series (adapted from Margaret Atwood’s all too prescient book and returning for one final season in summer 2025) is a hell of a lot better than anything either of the Alitos has ever said on their own.

Let’s end with this:

A few days ago I watched the feature documentary about eighties Brat Pack actors, Brats.  Its director, Andrew McCarthy, a brat pack “member” from such seminal youth films as Pretty In Pink and St. Elmo’s Fire, confesses that after all these years he still runs away from those times and those films, too often torturing himself over the unfairness of being referred to as a brat when he and his colleagues were anything but.

A must watch

A mashup of period footage of him and his cohorts when they were in their 20s, the film intercuts commentary from McCarthy along with new interviews and observations he elicits from such fellow actors, bratters and bratter adjacents as Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe, Demi Moore, Jon Cryer, Lea Thompson, as well as a host of others, including the New York Magazine writer who made the phrase up in the first place.  

It’s A LOT to watch of McCarthy try to talk therapy his way out of it the psychological sand trap he has dug himself into for all these years via the camera and on audio.

Cmon Blane

Still, rather than seething with rage about all the people he is going to get for coming after him all those years ago, he actually seems to at least be trying to figure out why all that access, success, money, and privilege couldn’t wipe away the sting of being called an unkind name.  Or two or three.  Almost forty years ago.  

Which is more than you can say for some people.  Or anything else that came out of the eighties.

And for some reason, that gave me hope.  

John Parr – “St. Elmo’s Fire”

Hate Fuel: A Driving Story

Indulge me with this digression from pop culture and social issues.

I need to talk about:

Anxiety and self-sabotage when it comes to test taking.

it me

Don’t fret.  It’s not that heavy. 

In fact, it was prompted by my phobias around the DMV.

That’s the Department of Motor Vehicles for anyone who has been driving for a long time and forgotten that nightmare.

I’ve actually had my license since the 1970s and I’m pretty good behind the wheel.  In fact, since the widespread use of GPS I’ve become almost excellent.

I no longer get lost or in near collisions because I’m looking through my Thomas’ Guide map to find out where the hell I am and why I’m not there yet (Note:  Look it up!  Actually, here it is…).

Oooh 98, a good vintage!

So what was it about me having to retake the written test to drive all these decades later that I let own me for the last few..um…years? 

More importantly, when I finally stepped up to take it in November, why did I FAIL on my first try and then obsess for a full EIGHT more weeks about failing it again before trying a second time?

The fact that I passed on my next attempt this past week means nothing to me except I won’t get booked for driving with an expired license and cannot be sued for everything I’m worth if I happen to hit someone because I was legally a criminal driving without a license.

Me on Mulholland Drive

Which I suppose means more than something since the latter would have created a much bigger set of REAL problems, not to mention 100 times more anxiety, for me. 

And all over a 25 question multiple-choice quiz where you can get five wrong, which makes it not all THAT hard anyway. 

Actually, not true.  But we’ll get to that in a second.

Tell me more!

First, some backstory –

I moved a few years before the pandemic but unbeknownst to me my DMV renewal was never sent to my forwarded address or someone in the office didn’t bother to alert me by email or snail mail that I was due.

So one day when my ID was being checked, probably because I was being carded for buying liquor….NOT……an authority figure warned me, Ya know, buddy, your license expired.  You better get it renewed because they don’t mess around.  You can be arrested.

Harrumph,  I remember thinking.  You’re not the boss of me.

Get lost!

And besides, they would have let me know like they’ve done for the last 137 years.

Well, that’s what I remember about the conversation, anyway.  And I didn’t think anything of it until I realized I had to get on an airplane, and a well-connected friend, one of the few who knew about my situation, warned me, you better bring your passport for ID because they’re cracking down and won’t let you on the plane anymore.

Yeah, I hate to fly (Note: Another anxiety item) and it’d been a few years. 

So I remember thinking, oh, this IS a big deal.  Hmmm.  Well then, I guess I’d better do this. 

I hate everyone

And needless to say, my well-connected friend had a guy who advised me on what to do and how to get it accomplished as fast as possible.

Which, well, I sort of did.  I filled out the paperwork, took another AWFUL photo for my new license, and was ready to take a test until I was warned it was too late in the day and that anyway I’d better study before I tried it because, well, road rules have changed since I took the test on my first car, a 1972 Ford Pinto.

You know I looked good driving this

Side Note: Don’t laugh, I LOVED Peter Pinto!   He had a green racing stripe across his sides, a black hardtop and his horn fell off every time I drove over a pothole, which in NYC was at least two or three times a week, day, or even hour.

But I digress.  It was late 2019 and I now needed to….study for a test? 

Yeah, I don’t think so honey

Ugh.  I hadn’t done that since college.  And even then not until the last possible minute.

So true to form I waited as long as possible and planned the test for Feb. 2020.

At which time the COVID-19 pandemic hit and I was plagued by a series of health issues that weakened my immune system.  Haha, no DMV for me!!

And it’s a good thing too since the one or two days of looking over the DMV rule book and cheat sheet web sites were a f’n nightmare!

Justified

They had rules AND questions about not only the required age of kids to sit in a backwards AND front facing car seat (Note: That’s 2 and 8 years old) but the height and weight requirements that make them exempt from those rules (Note: Um, 36 inches high and over 42 lbs., but I’d have to check).

F-ck man, I don’t have a god d-m kid, nor do I plan to let them in my car.  Why on earth would I need to know that, in addition to the many, MANY rules for carrying livestock in the back of my truckMY truck????  

Get bent, DMV

Yes, I’m being serious.  Go to any web address with sample EXAMS and you will find many questions about all sorts of things that would NEVER happen to ME.  Or you.

Mortified and paranoid about not being an “A” student anymore, not to mention a little p.o.’d because my mind could no longer retain meaningless facts the way it used to, I decided to let the pandemic work for me.

After the DMV briefly shut down, I got a temporary doctor’s note re: my driving and felt relatively safe during those very strange times.

So I decided to stay away.  For…well…two and a half years. 

uh oh

I had been well half that time and the DMV had long opened.  Yet the thought of learning about car seats and cow requirements sent me into an emotional tailspin.

So I did everything I could do avoid driving for fear of being arrested and broke into a sweat every time my husband threatened me with all sorts of stuff I won’t go into here if I didn’t take that f’n test!

Which I refused to take. 

Or pretended I was studying for.

Or began studying for and gave up on.

Or called to make an appointment to take but hung up because the waiting time was too long.

You know this is good logic

Until late this fall when the husband kindly asked me this Christmas for the only present he really wanted – me and my license – by the end of the year.

Well kids, love makes you do all kinds of things you never thought you would.  I found an expert to help me through the red tape I feared, studied for a few weeks quite diligently, showed up to take the dreaded written exam, doing breathing exercises beforehand to ease my anxiety, and promptly:

FAILED.  I F’N FAILED AND I STUDIED!!

Yikes

And do you know why? 

I was doing great until there were five – count ‘em, FIVE – questions about NEVs that showed up on my particular test.

Now you might ask yourself – what the f-k are NEVs?  I know I did.  Well, guess what:

NEVs are short for NEIGHBORHOOD ELECTRIC VEHICLES, little mo fos that look like powerized golf carts that none of my practice tests covered.  You drive them in suburban neighborhoods I never frequent, they can’t go more than 20-25 mph, you need insurance to drive them, and they’re governed by most of the rules of the road but can’t be driven in a 35mph zone.

God help me if I ever see one of these on the road

Only, I didn’t know anything about that before I took the exam.  I kept thinking an NEV was a special train, or a code word for Nevada, or some all-terrain vehicle that you drove up in the rocky Sierras, which I never do because I don’t like heights.

F-k me.  And f-k them.  And while we’re at it, F-K schooling of any kind.  Even though I’m a teacher.

FIVE questions?  That’s 20% of the entire test on NEVs and it caused me to FAIL on my very LAST question.

I hate the DMV but at least I no longer hated myself.  F-k them!  Again.

It must be repeated

Oh, and after a few glasses of wine that night you know I did an informal survey of about a dozen friends, NONE of whom knew what the hell on NEV was by its initials. 

This means there are at least a dozen other drivers on the road that likely couldn’t have passed my test.   Not that anyone cared.  Except for my husband, who now offered to help me study for my test the next time.

I’d rather die.

Get out of my room!!!!

Though not before I passed this piece of sh-t test on my second attempt because I’d be god d-mned if the mo fo DMV is going to break me.  I’m a lot smarter than them and I’m going to prove it.

At which point I did.  It happened two months later and I was so angry I purposely crammed just 48 hours before test day because I refused to give them any more time than that on principle.  Because I was so focused and motivated I knew I would pass.  And I did.

Hurray!

In fact, I only got two wrong.  And the last one was only because it was the final question and I was so happy to be done that I accidentally checked the wrong box.

So, what is the lesson in this?

1 – Do not let the anticipation of a task you do not want to deal with do a number on your brain and your life.  In other words, don’t take something that demands a mere level #2 of your ability and make it into a level #17 task of hardship.   And…

2 – The only way to motivate a barely still middle-aged gay, Jew is to try and screw them over. They will come for you with EVERYTHING they have and more EVERY TIME.  And WIN. 

But not on an NEV.  

Never on an NEV.

Paul McCartney & George Michael – “Drive My Car”