Author Archives: Missy Comley Beattie

I understand Andy Parker, the grief-stricken father whose 24-year-old daughter Alison was slain on live television in Roanoke, VA. Continue reading →

Saturday, August 15, my best friend Joan drove me to Baltimore Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport. I had a reservation to fly to Albuquerque to visit my son J, his wife L, and the darling-est grandson, Mr. Poop. I breezed through security without having to remove shoes, toiletries, or laptop, stopped at the board to check the flight, expecting to see “On Time” or “Delayed,” but instead read “Canceled.” Walked to the TSA desk and was told to proceed to the gate. The line to talk with an agent was Disneyesque and moving glacially. Continue reading →

I avoided the GOP debate. Had endured enough the day before when I took the car in for a safety check and sat, among other customers, in a waiting area and watched CNN’s broadcast of Obama’s Iran nuclear deal. Heard what must be done, ending the mindset that leads to war, and the words, “negotiate” and “negotiations”. Continue reading →

Who knows what lurks beneath a smile, an answer to an inquiry about one’s day, or the voice of a pilot who might announce, “We’re at cruising altitude. You can unbuckle your seatbelt and move around the cabin”? Continue reading →

Brrr. I’ve got the polar vortex blues. We, the Sisterhood, denounce this Siberian Express and talk about moving to a warmer zip code. Continue reading →

“No God condones terror,” Barack Obama said on Thursday, condemning Islamic State militants’ their brand of brutality. His (or our country’s) is more humane, the almost inaudible hum of a drone, followed by an incineration. Or a sniper’s bullet to the brain. Or kicking in a door and slaughtering an entire family. Or gene-altering WMD. Continue reading →

On December 3, 2014, news roared in that a grand jury had delivered its decision not to indict white police officer Daniel Pantaleo in the chokehold death of an unarmed black man, Eric Garner. Garner’s last words became a slogan. “I can’t breathe” was a demand for accountability and a statement that black lives matter. Soon another refrain was heard, “I CAN breathe”—a taunt of might-makes-right exceptionalism. Continue reading →

I read several articles that Stanford researchers have found a cure or “potential treatment” for Alzheimer’s. And, yes, there’s the possibility of reversing the mind-robbing disease. Continue reading →

Whew. I’ve been on a Netflix rip-roar binge, watching episodes of a Spanish drama series, Grand Hotel. Packed with deliciously devious characters, the story begins in 1905 when Julio travels to see his sister, a maid at the hotel. On arriving, he learns of her disappearance, that she may be dead, and decides to work at the hotel to investigate. He sees Alicia, the daughter of the hotel’s proprietor. It’s love. And taboo. Continue reading →

After the Sony hack, Barack Obama said, “We cannot have a society where some dictator someplace can start imposing censorship here in the United States. That’s not who we are. That’s not what America is about.” Continue reading →

I could not read the names without weeping—a list of the tortured detainees. I stared at each name, lingering, imagining, feeling. I thought of the euphemism, enhanced interrogation, like collateral damage, a manipulation of words to mitigate the depravity by making the unacceptable sound less repugnant. Continue reading →

Listened to Joni Mitchell melancholy on Tuesday and then later held Mr. Poop-adore in my arms, inhaling his baby-ness with joy, hope, and a seasoning of fear. I looked at my son, Mr. Poop’s father, over six feet tall, but my baby still, always my baby boy. And I thought of Michael Brown, still his mother’s baby boy when Darren Wilson executed him. I move fluidly from happiness to despair, my small, personal world colliding with the largeness of gigantic injustices. Continue reading →

Because I call out voting as futile, I’m not allowed to complain. At least that’s what a few readers have expressed, some outraged, admonishing, pressuring, writing: “People have died for the right to vote.” Continue reading →

Five hours into the ferry ride from Athens to Santorini, the passenger about four feet from me groaned and then vomited into a shopping bag. Twice. Continue reading →

“They have rampaged across cities and villages killing innocent, unarmed civilians in cowardly acts of violence,” Barack Obama said in his statement on the beheading of American journalist James Foley. Leadership in many countries and citizens in those countries could say the same about the USA. Black Americans could say the same about law enforcement or wannabe police officers like George Zimmerman) in their communities. Continue reading →

Israel’s Ambassador to the United States, Ron Dermer, remarked that Israel’s armed forces deserve a Nobel Prize for their “unimaginable restraint” during Operation Protective Edge. Continue reading →

I opened the latest issue (July 25, 2014) of THE WEEK and read a blurb in “It wasn’t all bad” about six-year-old Emily Heaton who asked her father if she could be a princess. Jeremiah Heaton “began scouring the globe for terra nullius, land unclaimed by any nation”—and found it. Heaton is one accommodating dad. He made a flag and secured the territory—an area of African desert between Egypt and Sudan. It’s now the Kingdom of North Sudan and Emily is its princess. Heaton’s “seeking official recognition from neighboring countries and the UN.” Continue reading →

With these words still hovering around his mouth, “We reject all cruel behavior”, Benjamin Netanyahu launched yet another attack with yet another movie title, Operation Protective Edge, on the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians who live in a state of siege and oppression in the Gaza Strip. Continue reading →

WTF? Israel shows no morality, no mercy, and no compassion for Palestinians. Israel’s strength is not a mystery. Their power is dependent on their belief that they are God’s Chosen, on sophisticated weaponry, US tax dollars, and bipartisan congressional support of Zionism that renders any “peace process” a charade. Continue reading →

For several days, I’ve read, written, deleted, read more, written more, deleted. I confess. I don’t know exactly what the hell is going on in Iraq except that this War of Terror is an epic clusterfuck and that the US armed Syrian jihadis who now have entered Iraq to join Sunni extremists in slaughtering Shi’ites. Continue reading →

I need to come clean after reading an article, “Striking Portraits of Fathers and the Daughters Whose Virginity They’ve Pledged to Protect,” that abutted a memory—one sending me on an expedition, opening boxes, to find the baby book my mother wrote in until I was 20. Continue reading →

I would do anything to save my child. I’d learn the language, read the books, delve into the mindset of the captors, cultivate a beard, if I could. Anything. Continue reading →

I was reminded of a book I read years ago when I sat on Laura and Erma’s deck—Margaret Craven’s I Heard the Owl Call My Name—a story of a call to life, love, a recognition and acceptance of the call to death. Having made a no-whine vow, I was holed up in my condo Saturday night and most of Sunday, watching hours of French movies. (I recommend In the House.) Continue reading →

I’ve been a crybaby lately. Okay, not just lately. I’m an admitted sap, tears blurring my vision when I watch a poignant scene in a movie or read anything inspirational or depressing. Continue reading →

Although his conviction has been overturned three times, Albert Woodfox remains in prison in solitary confinement. Continue reading →

Remember when Barack Obama said that Trayvon Martin could have been his son. I was reminded of this when I read that the First Lady had condemned the abduction of those Nigerian schoolgirls: “In these girls, Barack and I see our own daughters,” Michelle Obama said. Continue reading →

Sally Caldwell became a friend, someone who helped me through a dark time with her kindness, humor, and advice on how to make sense of the indefensible. She instructed me to say over and over, “He has a completely different value system.” Continue reading →

Tuesday evening and I’m sitting at the dining table, typing. There’s a glass of wine to the left of my laptop. Separating me from dim daylight, the blinds are lowered to the floor, a shield against the approaching thunderstorms, possible tornadoes and hail. Those blinds are about as protective as confetti. Continue reading →

So, Sigourney Weaver portrays Elaine who is portraying Hillary. Bud, Elaine’s husband, is a former U.S. president and an inveterate philander whom Elaine divorces. Continue reading →