Opposing Views

The little redhead in Dallas has issued a type of moratorium.

Now, in my day – meaning when I was younger – three-year olds had limited opinions and generally those were dealt with by “why not?” and “but Katy has one!” The Little One in Dallas is more defiant and has obviously watched the smileless Mitch enough to understand the power of the ultimatum.

Her “dander” has been piqued by the big round guy in the red suit. You know, the jolly one! The purveyor of “Ho, Ho, Ho!”

She has announced that Santa Claus cannot bring her gifts on Christmas Eve.

She has further insisted that he never be allowed into her house. Before you think that she is “looking a gift horse in the mouth,” we need a clarification. She wants gifts – every three-year old does – but they may only be delivered by Mrs. Claus. No strange man in the company of reindeer is welcome! She is not interested in discussing any compromise.

When she accompanied her mom to the grocery store, she insisted on a promise that the chocolate milk in the cart would not be for the bearded guy with the twinkle in his eye. Yes, it is alright for Mrs. Claus to have any amount she wants.

It sounds a bit like Washington, D. C., don’t you think?

Today’s news indicates that the Senate – despite Mr. Kyl – is close to ratifying the START treaty with Russia. I am amazed that it may happen. I am really amazed that DADT was approved. I am also amazed that Mitch has tear ducts, but that is another story for another day.

So, is there a new spirit around the district? Or is it the calm before the storm that is looming when the newly elected team arrives to bring “sanity” to our “liberal bent?”

I was stopped at an intersection on a major street in Skokie, a suburb north of Chicago, yesterday afternoon. I noticed there was a gentleman moving from car to car with what I thought to be a container to receive donations for some worthy cause. However, when he turned towards me, I realized that emblazoned across his front was a large, “IMPEACH OBAMA!”

Needless to say, I was taken aback.

So I began to watch the dynamic. He went up to several cars that had their windows lowered. I assumed they were friendly to his protest and that I had found myself in very unfriendly territory. But, to my relief, not one person accepted the printed material that the man offered. One driver shook his finger with obvious vehemence. (It was like sign language since I could not hear the exchange.)

I was waiting for the man to come my way. I wanted to engage in some form of reasoning. However, the turn light flashed a green arrow and I was forced to move along.

It got me to thinking about all the disgruntled people who have issues with an obviously well-educated, articulate, and compassionate leader. I got to thinking about the number of times the Grizzly Mama has derided him for being a “Community Organizer.” This coming from someone who didn’t even complete a commitment she made to her electorate once she discovered “Paree!” And there are the “Birthers” who cannot get beyond the legitimacy of his origins. There are Glenn and Rush who believe him to be the most ultra-liberal soul to ever walk the planet.

That line of thought, of course, leads to the extreme lack of cooperation between the political factions – old and new - of our country. Is there a way to find reason in such opposites?

I really think someone should organize a Flash Mob for the next big Tea Party rally. Maybe stage a dance routine using the “Rabbit Song” from “Alice in Wonderland.” You know:

“I’m late, I’m late for a very important date. No time to say, “hello; goodbye” I lose the time, I say. I run and then I hop, hop, hop! I wish that I could fly. There’s danger if I dare to stop and here’s the reason why: you see, I’m overdue, I’m in a rabbit stew…………

Now you must imagine 3,000 flash mobbers doing a slick routine – or maybe the Macarena, which isn’t. It would throw those angry “partiers” into riotous confusion. The flashmob of “Do, Re, Mi” in the Antwerp train station certainly got smiles out of the sedate onlookers.

Or maybe all the Democrats in Congress should stage a flashmob and just disappear for 24 hours. The conservatives would believe it was the “second coming” and they were left behind and not those “godless, socialist, blue-state liberals” they had expected would be.

Can you imagine the chaos and confusion at the Prayer House on C-Street?

While the Democrats are missing, we should get someone with a booming voice like a James Earl Jones and hide them somewhere on the mall with a bullhorn turned to max output.

“I AM NOT HAPPY!”

The fear of God has been known to wreak major changes! This would certainly be more environmentally friendly than a locust plague. Less messy than a flood.

A compassionate caring legislative branch would be such a great concept. Imagine a group of people who are not interested in being re-elected, but instead desire to make a positive change in the well-being of the citizens they have been honored to serve.

Yes, the old coot is a dreamer.

So here we are, headed into our most beautiful holiday of the year. There are twinkling lights everywhere and you hear a lot of warm wishes being expressed between people who rarely speak. Some of this warmth is, of course, aided by the fuzziness from a bottle of vermouth or brandy. Some is genuinely heartfelt.

But the former is ok. There is nothing wrong with civility for even a couple of hours. There is always the hope that when the buzz wears away, the civility can stay and become the genuine variety.

Since we are on the subject of Christmas “spirits,” the two little ones in Dallas have been in a rather heated exchange about holiday drinks.

The oldest insists that Santa Claus does not drink eggnog but drinks chocolate milk. The redhead – the younger one – insists he does not drink chocolate milk, even when relegated outside her home. He drinks eggnog!

Santa may wind up with water. Afterall, it is zero calories and non-allergenic.

Our Amazing Degree Of Anger

Chicago, Chicago!!

For the second day in a row, I find myself sad because of encounters that happened on the streets of Chicago. Yesterday, traffic on a major two-lane street was backed up for three blocks in one direction and two in another because a young man had chosen to stop his van – adjacent, by the way, to three empty parking places – in the middle of the westbound lane to unload a series of passengers and various bags of goods that they had purchased. It was not a quick series of actions. When a driver of a another vehicle asked politely that they park in the available space and thus allow traffic to move, the response from the driver was a very filthy series of expletives and the familiar middle-finger gesture. (The same gesture that hurt Bernice Clifton’s feelings.)

Eventually, I was able to get past so I have no idea of how long the congestion lasted. It made me sad to think that someone could be so selfish as to not care about the danger and inconvenience to others. And then could be so angry and abusive when questioned about his actions. (This, of course, feeds into my belief that you can only hear so much angry rap before it infiltrates your whole being. I don't think Beethoven does that. Tchaikowsky maybe, but certainly not Bach.)

Today, as I walked into my building, I saw a young woman park her vehicle in the middle of two parking spaces. Now, let me hasten to tell you that parking in my neighborhood after 5 p.m. on any day is like finding the golden egg. On Sundays, it is like hitting the Lotto. So, I said, “Miss, would you be so kind as to move either forward or back a few feet so that another car could get into the space as well?” I was greeted with the response, “Get Lost, Old Man!” (Well, at least there was no expletive as the other driver had received yesterday.)

Have we become so selfish that we only care for our own needs and nothing for the needs of others? I didn’t need the parking space – I was already safely ensconced in a precious space – but I have arrived home and been forced to spend an hour driving about hoping that someone would need to run to the grocery store for a late night of Rocky Road.

I even have the guilt that I have questioned my visiting child’s degree of upset stomach because it meant giving up a parking space to run to Walgreen’s. (I did go, by the way-so I am only partially callous.)

I have even considered a “handbill” campaign where I would get some flyers photocopied urging everyone to park responsibly and give more people a chance to find a spot. However, I worry that the flyers will wind up littering the street. I saw another driver park and dump two bags of McDonald’s debris onto the curb as she exited her vehicle. I bit my tongue.

We are an angry city. We are an angry nation! We are also a very selfish population!

I always remind my children that drivers in Chicago do not automatically stop for a red traffic signal – especially if they had planned to turn left. The light can change when they are mid-block, but the fact they intended to do a directional shift means “here I come, look out, I am in a turning frame of mind!”

I plan to quiz the Lincolnwood police. The area of Devon Avenue between McCormick and Lincoln Avenue is like the Indy 500. You couple the speed with the strange parking habits at the Devon Avenue USPS (Immigration Central) and you have a disaster waiting to be.

I was once at the post office when a large black Lincoln town car parked in a “no parking” zone in the front of the facility. The driver – a Catholic priest – emerged and wound up in front of me in the long line to mail a package. (My local USPS – the same one mentioned above – has 8 windows for customer service, but there is obviously some rule somewhere that only 2 can be opened during the high rush periods.)

“Father, why did you choose to park in a ‘no-parking’ zone in front of the post office?”

“I am Priest!!” He responded adamantly.

“Are you doing ‘priestly duties’ here in line for stamps? Is the Bishop out of Priority Mail Stickers?”

“I am Priest!!” again he spoke with great emphasis.

“Yes, I recognized your outfit. However, you are parked illegally. Will you do confession when you return to the Rectory? Who hears your confession? What about all the young children who saw you park illegally, who will explain to them why you chose to do that?”

“NEXT!” One of the two windows open had come available.

He rushed away.

The little Polish lady behind me held her parcel close to her chest as she said something that eluded my understanding, but I don’t think she approved of my bantering with the Man in Black. Since she was clutching her package so tightly, there was not a free hand for any angry gestures. I think that particular gesture is universal. However, I have not seen it anywhere else but in Italy. But, hey, you know the Italians!

How did this happen? How did we become so self-centered and uncaring for others? How did we assume rights that are clearly wrongs?

Morose Mitch is so worried that his wealthy Republicans will be taxed that he threatens that his party will not allow those who need tax relief to benefit unless all the tax cuts are extended. And yes, he said so without any hint of a smile. In a column in the NY Times, Paul Krugmann, the Nobel Laureate in Economics, cites rage among the rich. Krugmann states, “self-pity among the privileged has become acceptable, even fashionable.” (NYTimes, September 19, 2010)

The Tea Party is riding a series of election successes fueled upon anger. The Koch brothers are spending millions to defeat a clean-energy bill in California because it will impact their pocket book. Glenn Beck hosted a “Restoring Honor” gathering on the Mall in Washington, D.C. It was all about restoring the faith upon which our country was founded. Taking back America has serious overtones to me. I am not certain “my America” is anything at all like Glenn’s or Mama Grizzly’s.

All the conservativism reminded me of a discussion that I had with my father over “school prayer.”

Dad could not fathom that I was against school prayer in my son’s public school each day.

I reminded my father that when I was in school, my Principal was a deacon in our church. His wife, my seventh grade teacher, was also my Sunday School teacher. So if we prayed, it would be a prayer consistent with my family's beliefs. However, at the time of the school prayer issue, my son was in about the 5th grade. So I asked my father which prayer should he use?

His kindergarten teacher was Roman Catholic. His first-grade teacher was Indian, so probably Hindu. His second-grade teacher was a free-spirit and I doubted ever went to church. His third-grade teacher was a Presbyterian, so decidedly Calvinist. His fourth-grade teacher again was Roman Catholic. His current teacher was Jewish.

So, which prayer should my son pray when at school?

I explained to my Dad that I felt perfectly fine with my son's religious training taking place at home and church and his secular training at home and at public school. He could survive without a prayer while there. If he felt "outsecure" as he would put it, he could pray privately.

My father seemed to understand that we no longer lived in a “Mayberry” setting where everyone had the same background and practiced their beliefs in the same manner.

So Mr. Beck, which America do we restore? Ms. Palin, whose values do we go for? Tea Partiers, who will pay for the education of your children when your schools fold because you needed tax breaks?

In his book, The American Experience, Henry Bamford Parkes, remarks that our country survived because it existed as a “state of the mind” rather than an actual reality, in the thoughts of the early settlers. They had a dream of what this country could be and rather be crushed by the reality of what they encountered day by day, they held on fast to the dream. America for them was a state of mind, not a state of being.

What happened to “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses?”

The “state of the mind” of the early settlers and the sentiments found on the base of the Statue Of Liberty will do far more for this country than the crazy reality mentality of “me, mine, and ours” currently running rampant.

His Finest Hour

Henry Bamford Parkes in his book, “The American Experience,” observes that our nation accomplished its existence not through the recognition of the reality of things but rather through a “state of the mind.” His argument was that had the early settlers given in to the harshness of their state of being they would have given up the struggle to be. Instead, they continued to toil for the evolution of this country because of their vision, ‘their state of the mind.”

Recently, while waiting to discuss a potential real estate matter with my banker in Alabama, I sat outside the office able to hear the conversation taking place inside. The door was open so I was not eavesdropping. The gentleman who was there to discuss the purchase of a vehicle – a man of over 50, I would guess – had moved his remarks from the financing of the new wheels to a recent trip he had made to Washington, DC. My ears perked up when I heard him mention that “this was the finest and greatest thing I have ever done.”

I was expecting him to speak of seeing the monuments to the development of our nation and to the great people who had been instrumental in this endeavor. I thought perhaps he might mention the awe of viewing the copy of the Declaration of Independence. Instead, he clarified the moment with the explanation that he had attended the Tea Party March in September 2009.

His finest moment.

I wanted to rush out and find something more profound for this man’s finest hour, but then remembered my sister’s constant mantra: “not everyone thinks like you.”

I also remembered the late Norman Lear.

You will recall that Lear created “Archie Bunker” (the idea borrowed from a British sitcom) to poke at the sensibility of the American mind by presenting a character so “out there” as to remind us all of our narrowness and bigotry. However, instead of being rebuked, there was a groundswell of folks who held Archie as “just like me.” They loved this man because he shared their same vision. As late as 2008, the Archie Bunker label was being used to describe a block of voters in the elections in that year.

Our country loves the anti-intellectual. We love our “folksy” types.

I recall a great cartoon, which portrayed both George Bush and John Kerry appearing before the crowd at a Nascar racing event. Bush remarked something to the order of “how y’all doing?” John Kerry said “Greetings, race car aficionados!” Well, you know the results of that election.

In the early 1960s, Richard Hofstadter wrote “Anti-intellectualism in American Life.” It was written after the defeat of Adlai Stevenson, a man who refused to “dumb-down” his discourse for a more popular appeal. In truth, there were other factors at play in the elections of that period. But Hofstadter’s look at three aspects of our culture: religion, commerce, and democracy to understand the role of distrust of intellectualism at play has great validity.

The conservative movement, most especially the “tea partiers” play on the fears and distrusts of intellectual thought. The current administration is portrayed as thinking about the process but doing nothing. I personally would rather have a reasoned Nobel Laureate in the cabinet working through a problem than a good old boy from down home reacting from unreasoned emotion. Unreasoned approaches have landed us in quite a mess.

Sarah, you know, the one from Wasilla who coined the healthcare “death panels”, recently spoke before the Tea Party Convention at Opry Land. In assailing the current administration, she asked, "How's that hope-y, change-y stuff workin' out for you?" This while encouraging the audience to revolt! (Isn’t that change?) She even took a jab at the President’s use of a teleprompter. Yet, she was caught checking “crib notes” written on her hand to stay on track.

“Sarah Palin writes notes on her hand just like I do when I go to the Piggly-Wiggly.” People identify with this. Will “Cliffsnotes” become our finest hour?

Palin’s track was attack. She offered no ideas. Where are the solutions? Where is the vision? We are becoming a nation of fear and negative thought and I am frankly worried.

And the attacks? They are like a limbo pole: “how low can you go?” Consider this:

Some in the media recently characterized President Obama as “elitist” for wanting a “spicy, Dijon mustard” (made by Kraft in Illinois) on his hamburger. Were these the same people who insisted that certain staples on the burger plate be referred to as “Freedom Fries?” No, that was conservative members of our congress trying to one-up a reasoned approach by France to the idiocy of the Iraq War. French toast soon followed.

For the record, an earlier, well-respected, highly intelligent President, Thomas Jefferson, first referred to potatoes cooked “in the French manner.”

So where is the real America?

The statue in the New York harbor, a gift from France to commemorate the first centennial of our country, was created by Auguste Bartholi and called “Liberty Enlightening the World.” It is not merely Liberty “lighting” the world, but “enlightening” which bears the responsibility to furnish knowledge and insight. It is not about “me and mine” but about “ours.”

Shall we take the position of liberty as a protector or Liberty an enabler? In our finest hours, it has always been the latter.

Will our sense of “enlightenment” be only a “state of the mind” while fear and selfishness become our reality?

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses …”

Catsup As A Vegetable: how quickly they forget

Broadway is currently running a scaled-down revival of Sondheim’s “A Little Night Music.” I saw the original production with Glynis Johns who could not sing and Hermione Gingold, who also could not sing. But they could act!

The current version uses an audience-packing trend of placing a big Hollywood star in the cast. It sells seats and nobody seems to care if the acting is good or not. But, since I have not seen the current version, I will not make a judgement.

One of the most interesting songs is called, “Remember.” It deals with former and present lovers trying to remember events in their relationship. Invariably, things are incorrectly recalled. There is a line in the song which caught my attention: “you acquiesced and the rest is a blank.” The song ends with “I think it was you.”

The Tea Partyers are currently running rampant with their conservative bantering. They dislike everything that is going on in America. They even managed to scare enough people to supply Massachusetts with a Republican senator. Yes, blue Massachusetts! They seem to be able to blame the current administration with everything wrong in the economy, the wars, the banking industry, and don’t forget those impending “death panels.” And many people are believing every word.

Thomas Frank, the eloquent author and historian, was a recent guest of Bill Moyers Journal on PBS. In the discussion, Mr. Frank argued, rather convincingly, that the resurgence of the Republican Party and their politics is due to the fact that “Americans have forgotten what their country looked like under conservative rule, ‘That's the disease of our time...that sort of instant forgetting.’ "

All of us have the tendency, like the quintet in the Sondheim musical, to romanticize the past. Even the most recent past. But let’s go back a bit. I recall a calendar that I was given during the Reagan years. Each day of the year had a quote from Mr. Reagan. Many were amazing in their naivete. “Facts are stupid things.” “I have left orders to be awakened at any time in case of national emergency, even if I’m in a cabinet meeting.” “You can tell a lot about a fellow's character by his way of eating jellybeans.“ "Trees cause more pollution than automobiles." "Approximately 80 percent of our air pollution stems from hydrocarbons released by vegetation, so let's not go overboard in setting and enforcing tough emission standards from man-made sources." "What we have found in this country, and maybe we're more aware of it now, is one problem that we've had, even in the best of times, and that is the people who are sleeping on the grates, the homeless who are homeless, you might say, by choice." He also felt that unemployment was a choice.

Reagan’s disconnect with the common man was legendary. Remember, this the administration that attempted to classify catsup as a vegetable in order to have a balanced lunch program in our public schools. Save those packets son, times are bad.

In his economic programs, Mr. Reagan promised to curb governmental spending but instead increased it by 68% over the Carter administration. His tax cuts actually cost the less-affluent more.

Yet, Mr. Reagan is a hallowed, populist president. And obviously an expert at stagecraft.

We move forward and remember the first decade of the new century - The Bush Years. The Tea Party group and most Republicans see it as a time of greatness. Look at the record: the handling of Katrina, the move into a war without a reason to do so, their record on the environment, world diplomacy, climate change, and yes, the economy. How quickly people forget. Bush 43 said in December of 2008, "I've abandoned free market principles to save the free market system." He also said, “I'm the master of low expectations.” "It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it." I must have missed that calendar.

So, the Tea Partyers will gather at the Opryland Hotel for a big convention shortly. It is sold out. Will they come up with a valid plan for the economy or merely rant about it? Do they wish to solve the healthcare crisis in our country or are they unconcerned because they are not among the 30 million uninsured? Don’t they worry that a well-oiled healthcare lobby has spent record money to attempt to defeat any proposal? Isn't a light going on somewhere between the ears?

The March Hare, speaking to Alice at another famous tea party said, “you could at least make polite conversation.” I have low expectations of this based upon the history of the movement.

So, in the midst of this hysterical backlash, will we repeat the past cycles where people acquiesced and through “instant forgetfulness, “the rest is a blank?”

What is that music I hear?

“Quick send in the clowns. Don’t bother, they’re here!”