I am stuck in my room today. The rest of the family are moving furniture, so I am trapped watching the cat. 

I could be viewing the defense speak in Donald Trump’s impeachment trial, but instead I opted not to. I should; my civic duty almost demands it. Fairness, and all that.

I don’t know if anything the defense could say would change my mind. I don’t know if anything could change the mind of enough senators to convict. The bits I did catch showed the defense lawyer arguing that Democrats use the word “fight” all the time, including about the demonstrations over the summer. They are also using the First Amendment defense, as expected. From what I have seen, they are being much more effective than would have been thought given their opening statements.  The meeting with three Republican “jurors” – all experienced lawyers – probably had nothing to do with the defense’s increased competence. Maybe.

Instead, I watched High Society. This movie includes “Well, I Nevah,” my favorite musical number in any film. Full stop. Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra have wonderful chemistry, and the lyrics by Cole Porter shimmer.

I will wait until the inevitable acquittal. The impeachment prosecution has nonetheless managed the important function of creating a coherent public record of that fateful and terrible day. Now everyone knows exactly how close we all came to a mass assassination and the destruction of our democracy at the hand of a would be dictator. The record will be invaluable in teaching future generations of historians and political scientists.

Thank you, Jamie Raskin, Joaquin Castro, David Cicilline, Diana DeGette, Madeleine Dean, Ted Lieu, Stacey Plaskett, Joe Neguse, and Eric Swalwell.

Now, back to High Society. And then Philadelphia Story.

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