Texas

Perhaps the most pernicious aspect of the Texas anti-abortion bill (Texas SB 8), signed into law by Gov. Greg Abbott on Wednesday, is the one that allows private citizens to sue abortion providers – and anyone else – who helps a woman get an abortion.

We're talking about taxi cab drivers, Uber and Lyft drivers, persons who offer financial assistance to help pay for an abortion, or even someone talking about getting an abortion in the privacy of a whispered conversation with a supposedly trusted listener. It doesn't matter if the person seeking an abortion was raped or was the victim of incest, the resulting pregnancy, by this law, cannot be aborted.

If a plaintiff successfully wins such a lawsuit, said plaintiff can receive up to $10,000.

A person could make a decent living turning in friends or total strangers via anonymous tips on a Texas Right to Life "whistleblower" hotline. While some Texas legislators claim SB 8 will not devolve into spying on your neighbor because the law does not directly challenge the established law and constitutionality of Roe v. Wade, that's exactly what will happen. I mean, who's going to ignore the lure of a $10,000 bounty?

And this rat-on-your-neighbor policy smacks of Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy or Communist Russia of the 1930s. Is that what we've become?

Actually, we've already been there. The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 also depended on citizen participation in the return of fugitive slaves to their supposedly rightful owners. Sometimes, bounties were paid for the surveillance and capture of people who wanted nothing more than personal liberty and autonomy.

It feels strangely familiar, doesn't it?

Enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Act was a precursor to the Dred Scott decision, which declared slaves to be little more than property. The Dred Scott decision, under Chief Justice Roger Taney, was one of the emotional touchstones leading to the Civil War.

SB 8 continues the slow-boiling war on women in this country in another effort to take away rights they clearly won with the landmark Roe decision nearly 50 years ago. Not only will abortion issues be put at risk, so will women's healthcare in general, I believe. Think birth control. Think uterine, ovarian and breast cancer screening, especially for the poor. This law, I think, will result in horrible collateral damage.

It's a law designed to set the country back at least 50 years, maybe more. Abortions will never go away, no matter how many laws you pass. They will be performed illegally. Or they will be self-administered with chemicals or medications, if not coat hangers.

And women will die.

And SB 8 is hardly representative of its constituency. Of the 150 members of the Texas Senate, 83 are Republicans. Of those 83 Republicans, only seven are women, and only three are persons of color. Meanwhile, 31 of the 67 Democrats are women, many women of color. So basically, it's white men telling women what to do with their own bodies. Again. As usual.

And why is this all focused on women? There is a male involved with every abortion.

Keep in mind that nationally, polling shows nearly 70 percent of the country favors Roe. Consequently, we may be watching the efforts of a decided minority to challenge, if not bring down, the will of the people.

SB 8 last week got tacit approval from the Supreme Court when five of the nine justices allowed the law to go into effect without a ruling. Thus, SB 8 opens the door and provides a road map for other states so inclined to abolish abortion.

Instead of penalizing women who are already devastated over making a difficult decision, the abortion discussion should also include subjects like sex education, free birth control, adoption and severe sentencing for rape and incest.

Then maybe we can make real progress within the 21st century.

It's friggin' hot

One of the attractions of North Carolina for me, 35 years ago, was that it was located in a marginally warmer climate than the one I was living in in eastern Pennsylvania.

I'm sure I thought that thought during the winter months. Be that as it may, I found a job in the Tar Heel state and moved south for keeps. I was clearly a carpet-bagging Damn Yankee, as I've been told. Repeatedly. I married a local girl. I stole the silverware.

I was 25 years old when I made that momentous move and, presumably, I became acclimated to the local weather over the ensuing years. Yes, it was mild in the winters. But it was also incredibly hot and humid in the summers.

It's nuts when it's 80 degrees at 6 a.m.

But never mind. I adapted. I regularly played church-league softball in the heat of July ( I wore "00" on my shirt, a number, I think, reserved exclusively for Yankees) back in those days. I actually thought I was having fun.

Then I discovered golf. I played for years, and could hardly wait for summers to arrive because, when the temperature climbed into the 90s, I virtually had the entire course to myself. It was great. I'd walk the course, carrying my bag over my sweaty back, happily climbing hills, fording streams, chasing my GPS-guided hooks and slices into poison-ivied woods. Life was good.

It's a wonder I survived, looking back on it. I wonder how close — and how many times — I came to heat stroke?

I don't play golf in bake ovens anymore (or if I do, I ride in a golf cart), and this might be a reluctant concession to my age (60). I'm constantly being warned to stay indoors and slow down when the heat index rises. But I use this information selectively. If the grass needs mowing, say, I'll gladly stay indoors instead. Otherwise, I'll still chance the heat if I have an excuse to be outside.

For example, I still go for my walks early in the morning. This might seem like a good time to go in the middle of an oppressive heat wave, but I have to tell you, it's still ridiculous, even at 5:30 a.m. I usually wear sweat pants and a short-sleeved sweat shirt (why is it so difficult to find short-sleeved sweat shirts these days?), but it can get to 80 degrees by 6 a.m. That's nuts.

At home, I try to keep the thermostat from bankrupting us. I have it set around 77, which is about five degrees higher than I'd like. But it's manageable, if not comfortable. It just requires more adapting, I guess.

In the end, there's not much any of us an do about the heat except endure. Or complain.

Stay cool.