Political Climate

This mid-term as my wife and I drove to the library ballot drop off, we shared the same thought – will there be armed and masked drop box “observers”? I did not like that tinge of fear at voting. It was both a new and unwelcome feeling.

Though Colorado has not evinced any such behavior to my knowledge, fear is something that can reach epidemic proportions in the blink of an eye. And fear is what politics peddles more than any other idea lately. Fear for democracy, fear for our purses and wallets, fear of science and intellect. Of course, as fear spreads, its sibling anger comes with it hand-in-hand.

Fear and anger are certainly nothing new to politics, but now it seems to be the primary goal over ideas and ideals. Fear and anger have become the stick accompanying the prosperity carrot. It is a smorgasbord, grab a plate and pick your poison.

To be sure, there is real risk to some of the elements goaded at. Democracy is at risk, but that risk can be used as a club just as much as our pocketbooks can be. Still, if I had to pick among the topics of fear, I would worry most about democracy.

The economy is currently causing aches and pains, but I do not worry about it. The economy is global in nature and therefor neither the full blame nor the full responsibility of the U.S. It is also demonstrably cyclical. It falls and it comes back. In my sixty years, we have survived the recession of the 70’s, an economic collapse in 2008, and are weathering inflation and talk of a recession now. Live within your means, be understanding and generous to those less fortunate, and we will all come out of the downward spiral. The economy will cycle up.

Democracy does not come and go in cycles. It is a living thing, an experiment that has been going in the United States for 246 years. As a living thing it is born to grow and adapt within the sound framework of the founding fathers. It is made to live and thrive. But if it is ignored or taken advantage of it can die as well. It can be stronger than you imagined, and is more fragile than you think.

Much of the fear in general these days is driven by the political climate espousing what I call “stuffism”. Where’s my stuff? What’s in it for me? Why do they get all the stuff while I get nothing? And this latest manifestation of our greed could not thrive so without the use of “villains”. Villains that are wedges to be driven into our socio-economic fissures and cracks. Villains with roots in antisemitism, racism, and anti-intellectualism. In many ways antisemitism and racism are self-explanatory. They have been front and center before and have raised their ugly heads once again. The anti-intellectualism pervasive today is not as familiar to people. Too many candidates in the last six years have miss-used common sense to make us doubt science and reasoning. This is an appeal to our baser instincts, our lizard brains. Encouraging people not to think. It leads people to embrace conspiracy theory that no matter how implausible draws lines that people blindly follow between one thing and another. And this laziness of thought leads us to deny thoughtful and reasonable explanations and conclusions. It causes us to deny science and the scientific method. It caused us to throw down our masks in anger and breath in COVID. It caused us to believe our system of voting and electing our representative is greatly flawed and given to abuse, instead of believing the numerous recounts and demonstrations of how solid and unbiased it truly is. Where once most people would construct an intellectual exercise to understand an issue, now we google for more information on the disinformation we are fed.

To me it feels like this rise in fear and anger, this combustible fuel of selfishness, this burning match of “common sense”, is turning us into sheep. Cattle herded blindly in the trust of others though it may lead us to slaughter. Politicians wringing their hands in glee as we follow the Judas goat of lies. I admit, this IS easier. That thinking and testing and discovering are an effort. But like most effort, we come out the other side stronger.

The End of the Longest Day

At the end of a long day, you take your leisure where you can find it. That is how I captioned the picture above six years ago according to the Facebook memory notification today. I ache at both picture and caption, because today Mabel's longest day has ended, and she has been lain down for her longest rest. I can’t tell you how difficult it has been to say goodbye to her and to have her leave us. I will never be able to properly describe the loss we feel, a loss born of love.

Jean-Marie found her and fell in love with her the moment she saw her at the Humane Society when she was a volunteer. Mabel had been placed on hold by someone who allowed that hold to expire. And so it seems Mabel was meant to be with us and we with her.

I was in Winnipeg on business when Jean-Marie found her and texted me her picture and details. It was sweet of Jean-Marie to check with me before she did anything. If I said no, she would have gotten Mabel anyway I think. But I didn’t say no. I was smitten at first sight with Mabel just as she was. Of course Mabel’s name was not Mabel when we adopted her. But the name that the Humane Society gave her, Dandi, didn’t fit. Jean-Marie saw into the baby girl’s soul and Dandi became Mabel from that moment on.

Mabel joined our family, but she was the one to set the rules. Jean-Marie was Mabel’s comfort. She clung to Jean-Marie. We would often say that Mabel was glued to her hip. Mabel simply made me her man-servant. She never wanted to trouble Jean-Marie with anything and so if she was hungry, she barked for daddy. If she was thirsty, she barked for daddy. If she needed to go outside, she barked for daddy. If she needed anything, she barked for daddy. She never bothered momma. She sat with momma. Lavished lovins’ on momma, curled up with momma. She only kissed me right before bed time, and only curled up against me during the night for my abundant body heat. That was all I needed.

She was never a dog in our household. She was a person. She was a personality. Occasionally I would put a leash on her in attempt to take her for walks, but she always looked upon this act with disdain. She did not lead nor follow. She walked where she wanted, wandered on the leash up to the point that I would eventually have to pick her up and carry her for the remainder of the walk. Of course this is what she wanted.

Mabel brought joy to everyone to meet her. She loved to go out shopping with us, particularly to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the nearby Home Depot on North Academy. As we pushed her around in our shopping cart, people would flock over to pet her, ask about her, smile because of her. She was enchanting. She was a people person.

With all of this personality, it has always been difficult for us to believe that someone had dropped Mabel off near the Humane Society at a Walmart entrance along with several other dogs. It makes us sad to even try and imagine what the first seven or eight years of Mabel’s life had been like. She did not deserve that kind of life. So we gave her all that she did deserve, and she gave back to us unconditional love in return.

Over the years Mabel has constantly made us smile and laugh. She took our hearts and kept them safe. Because rescuing a pet is essentially a selfless act, we never considered that Mabel would rescue us in return. But that is what happened. Now today, Mabel can rest after years of taking care of us. We will always miss her, we smile at countless memories of her, and we will be shedding tears at the loss of her for quite some time.

Flagging Belief

Our nation’s Flag has always been special to me. When I was young, I learned to honor it first with The Star Spangled Banner, and as I matured with my beliefs. When the Flag was raised over ball games, I sang to it along with the crowd in my young off-key voice. I would feel the nation was being put to bed when late night TV would sign off with a view of our Flag waving in the breeze. And I remember scout leaders impressing upon me the care of the Flag. These were the wholesome images of our national symbol that I carry with me from my youth.
The other day while running errands, a truck traveling in the opposite direction passed me. It was large and black, covered in slogans, and flying the American Flag and a Trump flag from its truck bed. No pride within me was evident at the sight of the Flag as there used to be, only a sense of dread and disappointment.
This symbol of our nation that unified us by our differences has been coopted, has been radicalized in a surprisingly few years. What once symbolized the good we could achieve, what once symbolized the loftier heights to strive for, now symbolizes much less, is now used to drive wedges into the differences that once united us.
Now I often see that Flag of our nation on the back of pickups sharing equal space with a Trump banner. I see that Flag of our nation roadside along with signs equating Democrats with socialists and communists, and ones claiming President Biden and Vice President Harris to be Satan incarnate.
Our Flag is now at the leading edge of disinformation and hate. It has been placed at the head of a charge that has reduced the Constitution of the United States to only a broadly interpreted Second Amendment with a dollop of First Amendment on the side. The rest of that beautiful document is left to rot in a corner, neglected.
Part of this front of hate is aimed at people of color and immigrants. With the exception of my maternal grandfather whose family has proudly been here for many generations, my remaining grandparents represent immigrants and first generation Americans. In fact, my father’s parents immigrated from Palestine. I wonder if these false-bearers of our standard had their way if my family would have been allowed in the front door at all.
Our once proud Flag has become a distracting bauble, a glittery charm used to hypnotize the faithful and rob them of reason. Many who wave that Flag believe all lives matter without any recognition of how little black lives matter, how much more poorly people of color are treated. Many who wave that Flag want to live a life of freedom of their own design rather than within the framework of freedom first formed in 1776.
My sadness and ache spread out darkly like oil on pavement. Viscus and tangible. We have been led to the edge of a precipice surprisingly easily, cattle following a Judas goat. We cannot fall in, we must not fall in. Either the Flag stretches far enough to embrace all or it has failed to cover any. Agree to disagree but still hold hands. Give rise to debate rather than descension. Restore our Flag as a symbol instead of continually using it as a bludgeon.