Wednesday, October 19, 2022

The Real Mary Poppins

I came across a Facebook argument on whether *Mary Poppins* was a worthwhile book to read to children, and I was reading through and thinking about whether to weigh in, when I saw someone had quoted me . . . with a link  . . . from a forum discussion 9 years ago. I basked in the moment of Internet immortality. 

Then I thought perhaps I should reread it again and see if I still agree with myself. It is all too easy to get out of the habit of reading children's books when one no longer has small children to read them to. And I have to admit that *Mary Poppins* was probably not one I read out loud to the children (I'm pretty sure we got audiobook from the library) nor one that any of them particularly latched on to. (Top ones there would be *Robin Hood*, *Winnie the Pooh*, and *Wind in the Willows*.)

It always has a special place in my heart, though, because though there are many families with four children in literary canon and even quite a few with two boys and two girls, they are the only ones with girl, boy, girl-boy twins to match our lineup. (Though I'm pretty sure Jane and Michael are more like 5 and 7 rather than 3 and 4 that I had to contend with. And I did not have a Mary Poppins nor even a Robertson Ay.) 

But it does tend to draw a lot of flack. Mainly because people watched the movie first. And the Mary Poppins of the book is not much like the Mary Poppins of the movie. She is prickly and stern and uncommunicative. 

One of the newer criticisms I saw was that Mary Poppins is a "narcissistic witch." Well, if you don't like magic you won't like Mary Poppins, but she never casts a spell or rides a broom. I feel she would sternly disapprove of both as unnecessary folly. It is just that strange and wonderful things happen around her, things she usually refuses to discuss.

Narcissistic . . . no. She is vain, undoubtedly. It is quite often pointed out. But it is an innocent, childish vanity that likes to look nice and has no need to feign otherwise, like Yum-Yum in The Mikado. Narcissism is one of those words that gets bandied about so that everyone's former boss, tenant, landlord, and spouse is afflicted with it. But it is grossly overused and it certainly does not apply to Mary Poppins. A narcissist is someone who makes everything all about them. And Mary Poppins is the reverse of that. Everything about her is deflected back outward. When she gives up her new gloves so that the girl from the stars can have a Christmas present, she downplays it entirely. The little world of the Banks children never revolves around her and she does nothing to make it do so. A narcissist in the nursery would be busy manipulating the situation, playing the family members against each other, treating the children's bad behavior as a personal affront, bribing the children's affection one moment and using it against them the next.

Then there are complaints against the Banks parents as distant and uninvolved, which really I think come from the movie, not the books. Yes, the Banks parents rely on servants, like everyone else of their time and class (and frankly everyone else of upper classes through most of time. We only got rid of widespread servitude with automated home appliances.) But they care more about their children than about funds, they are present in the day-to-day lives of their children, and it is not from lack of care for their children that they got help with all the buttoning and unbuttoning. Mr. Banks requests the children meet him for lunch as a treat--his idea, not theirs or Mary Poppins. Mrs. Banks is around enough that the children can pester her all morning with questions.

Tolstoy was wrong about happy families (he had probably never met one)--they can all be quite different. The Banks might not be a modern attachment parenting family, but they are a happy one, and it is quite a good thing for children (and their parents) to learn that not everyone has to be just like them.

Another new buzzword I have seen applied is that Mary Poppins "gaslights" the children. This because she generally refuses to discuss the magical things that have happened in her presence. On a careful read, though, I found only one case where she appears to deny it, and that is after the laughing gas episode when the children refer to her uncle as "bobbing about" on the ceiling. Even then she doesn't so much deny it as criticize them using such undignified terminology about her uncle.  

But I think this really misunderstands what I think is one of the key themes of Mary Poppins, which I bring up at the risk of reducing a real, whole book full of real, whole people to a mere point. At the end of the chalk painting chapter, Mary Poppins tells the children, "Don't you know everyone's got his own fairyland?" And an entire chapter is devoted to the babies learning that on or about their 1st birthday,  they will forget how to talk to the birds and the wind (Mary Poppins of course being the notable exception to this general rule).

The world of Mary Poppins--and the real world--are full of Wonder. Strange and amazing things are around every corner. But it is easy, easy, easy to lose that. It can be lost through too much talk, too much poking and prodding. We can hardly help but lose it as we grow up and become more rational. Mary Poppins--for reasons we do not and probably cannot know--is a conduit to that Wonder.  She has never forgotten how to talk to the wind. She cannot tell you how, but if you will be quiet for a minute, perhaps you can eavesdrop. And if not, off to bed with you. 

Saturday, October 15, 2022

It Has Been a Week

While there are probably many things I could blame for the decline of posting over the past several years, the biggest one has been DOB's succession of car accidents that not only threw everything into chaos, but meant any reference to them or their effects (which would have been every moment of every day) could become part of discovery in ongoing litigation. However, now that things are resolved it is easier to make posts about the day to day.

Which hasn't settled down all that much, though DOB is doing much better than he has in years. 

We started out this week pretty well. Duchess had been working at a camp and missed our annual summer trip to the beach, so she requested a family weekend there. Summer, which was conspicuously absent this June, decided to stay on an extra two months and we had two days of boogie boarding and s'mores on the beach, which we managed to accomplish all by ourselves without the collective skills and supplies of the extended family which we usually rely on. DOB has a three-wheeled electric scooter that rides a tight line between mobility device and off-road vehicle so he can get around on the beach.

After we arrived home on Monday, and I was at last enjoying that moment which all parents of large families know, in which it is finally *your turn* in the bathroom after a two and a half hour car ride, Deux came in and said in relatively calm tones that I was needed in the driveway immediately. Deux, who had been helping DOB finish unloading, is mathematically precise in all his speech, so I immediately emerged. While DOB was backing the scooter down the ramp off its hauler, the hinges on the ramp had given way. The scooter had flipped over sideways and DOB was dangling head downward over the side of the hauler, with his foot trapped under the scooter. He was conscious and able to move himself as much as might be expected for someone dangling in that position, so I decided the thing to do would be to get the scooter off his foot and get him out of there. Unfortunately, no means of doing this did not increase the pain in his foot. (Note: Do not try this at home. I am definitely not trained for this.) But leaving him dangling there while more competent help arrived also didn't sound like a great option. So I finally decided to go with what I could do and do it quickly. I tipped the scooter back up and DOB winced but we got him down to the ground and then upright and he was, astonishingly, still functional. Deux and I were able to lift the scooter down flat on the ground and DOB was able to park it. After several thorough checks from his various medical people, it seems that he sustained no serious damage either to brain or foot, which is amazing.

Anyway, then it was back to work on Tuesday. We are still working through the backlog of appointments and work that got sidelined during our trial last month. For me this includes several evictions that were filed during the trial and therefore I may or may not have reviewed as carefully as usually. Deadlines for evictions are different from normal civil practice, at least for the tenants, who have no deadline for their responses. This is a rule that predates them having state-funded lawyers, but now that they do their lawyers tend to take advantage of it. On Wednesday afternoon I was working my way through my appointments, one of which was a potentially very serious and emergency situation for a vulnerable adult that I was trying to sort out through a language barrier and would need to file in the adjacent county under a statute that just changed and I am still getting the hang of. I finally wrapped it up and went to join the Zoom for my next consult and just briefly glanced at my email to see that the opposing attorney to whom I had wired $300,000 in settlement of a judgment the week before--on which daily interest was hundreds of dollars--was emailing to say that it had not arrived. 

Over lunch I'd wrapped up a response in one of my eviction matters--the lease had been omitted from the complaint as it wasn't a significant element in that eviction and the landlord had brought it by and we'd submitted it with an additional declaration and argument on why it was not important. Another one came in with an 8-page brief that needed a detailed and carefully substantiated response. None of this could I start, of course, until I had very calmly met with my next two clients, both of which were complex trust situations that needed a lot of discussion. DOB went to the bank to find out what happened to the wire transfer but the local branch, although helpful, could not tell us anything except the money had definitely been sent because the wire department was already closed.

Well, that was a rough Wednesday, but I got my second eviction brief mostly drafted before I left for home. Thursday I had another full morning of meetings, including merger discussions with our suitemates, but I was doing OK wrapping up my second eviction brief when I got more briefing in the other case, in which opposing counsel accused not just my client of fabricating the lease because the January date on the lease used the previous year (before he bought the property), but accused me of knowingly aiding and abetting this "fraud." Never mind what the chances are of writing the previous year in January vs. messing up the dates on a document being forged to fool the court. I was a lot more insulted by the implicit stupidity than by the asserted evil. We did find out that the wire transfer was just someone forgetting to click the approve box at the receiving bank so hopefully no one blames us for it. 

Anyway, Friday came, motions day, and I had four evictions on the morning calendar. I moved the "forgery" one to a different judge and DOB argued it so I wouldn't spit nails. Each eviction was argued and examined by the court with great care and it took all morning. The court sternly denied sanctions in the "forgery" case and set it for trial. Meanwhile my paralegal had worked out when and how I needed to file the vulnerable adult matter and I had just time to scarf down lunch before heading to Tacoma.  

We got the matter filed but then had to hang around a few hours until a translator was available. Luckily I had my computer so I went to the law library and tried to deal with a few other emergency situations that I had not yet had the time to address that week. 

The time finally came and we had a long and difficult hearing what with the language barrier, the translator being on phone and not able to hear half the time, and us having almost no information to support our petition (which was the basis for our petition--the petitioner had been locked out of all her own bank accounts and we're still trying to figure out what the heck happened). We didn't get a temporary order, but we did get a hearing set and court authority to support getting the authorization we needed. 

Anyway, I do not carry fluids with me because I would just dump them on important things, and the courthouse, as far as I have been able to ascertain has a total of one water fountain set to "dribble." After an afternoon of this I was absolutely parched and did not think I would make it home. I thought, "Normal people would drive through a coffee shop and get something." I hate coffee but thought there was a chance someone might have unsweetened ice tea.  But not being a normal person I could not find one. I took an exit that I knew led to a large shopping area but there was no coffee shop there. There was a Target, so I thought maybe there was something *inside* Target having vague recollection of seeing that before. (Not being a normal person I go inside Target maybe twice a year and have never actually purchased a beverage there.) 

I couldn't find anything, but I thought, "Target sells water, right? I could buy water?" I walked to the back where of course I realized that Target does sell water but only in large cases. So I got a case of water and a bag of chocolate-covered nuts because water alone seemed insufficient at that point and as I'm standing awkwardly in the checkout line with a case of water and a bag of nuts (and no cart because I'm just getting a drink, I don't need a cart), behold there is Starbucks immediately before me, right next to the door I came in.

Anyway, I hauled everything out to my car. There was a rather random-looking gentleman walking behind me as I went out to my car and he was saying something I couldn't quite work out, but when I got to the car he appeared interested solely in addressing the sky and the Office Depot opposite so I left him to it while I slammed a couple of bottles of water. 

I then got lost trying to get back to the freeway and passed several more coffee stands. I always get lost in Tacoma but I never worry about it because if the sun is in my eyes I will find my way home eventually. And I got a chicken at Costco and came home and crawled into bed. 

I hope next week goes better.