Growth of a Progressive

 I find that I have become further and further left of center as I age.  I have always had liberal leanings since the time of JFK.  Even though I attended a conservative Methodist college in the Bible Belt, I learned critical thinking and not to take at face value all that i was told.  My liberalism grew through the Civil Rights and Vietnam era of the 1960s, until it plateaued in the 1980s.  It then started to morph into a more progressive view of the world.  

Even though I spent my career in insurance, the most conservative of industries next to banking, I did not allow that to influence my thinking.  To my mind, the purpose of insurance is to get folks back to where they were before whatever the loss or accident occurred—NOT to make unseemly profits for the stockholders.  I had to be, in short, the most liberal insurance person in town.

In retirement, I find that I am more a Progressive than ever before.  Proud to be a Berniecrat but, considering the reactionary conservatism in the country, I am left with no choice.  Joe Biden wasn’t my first choice for President, nor was he my second.  He’s doing what he can but with a Congress that is unable or unwilling to work together for the good of the country, I ache to think of how it will be for my grandchildren and their future.  I was thinking/hoping that Donald Dump was merely a hiccup in our history.  Unfortunately, that seems not to be the case.

They say a person becomes more conservative as they grow older.  Perhaps, but not if they’re paying attention…

Leadership in a Pandemic

I must admit abject frustration at the way Trump has approached and is handling the Coronavirus pandemic.  His daily “briefings” are nothing more than a Dog and Pony show with him vomiting out platitudes about people and the job they are doing.  Not once have I ever heard a scintilla about what he is planning to do and the steps he is taking to gain control over this worsening menace.  All he does is ramble on and on about the great and fantastic jobs all “his” people are doing.

At the other end of the spectrum is New York Governor Andrew Cuomo.  I have been listening to and look forward to hearing his briefings.  He knows what the hell he’s doing and has a handle on everything about what the Coronavirus is doing to his state and is taking positive steps to address the monster all of us are facing.  All while keeping his ear to the ground.  He knows the number of cases, equipment and supplies at the professionals’ disposal, and how much more will be needed as the crisis grows.  If he doesn't know, he knows who to ask.

Not only that, he is cognizant of the fact that local governments  will probably not be able to meet their budgets because of the loss of revenues due to the shuttering of businesses and the attendant loss of jobs.  Today he outlined a way that these drops in revenue can be addressed.  As I understand it, the locals should cut their budgets by a certain percentage, based on anticipated revenue and work toward meeting the new figures.  With everyone pulling their respective oars in the same direction, things can work out.  If revenues fall short, that would at least give the locals a frame on which to build the succeeding budget.  

Would Trump conceive of such a scenario?  Not on your life!

Trump is simply passing the buck.  It’s not his fault!  It should be up to the governors under our federal system to take care of their own states and leave the government out of the distribution business.  This is a national crisis which requires a national response.  You would not expect the President to have the various governors send out their National Guard units, willy-nilly to another country to fight a war, would you?  Of course not!  So why then, should governors be expected to compete with each others to obtain critically needed medical equipment and supplies to fight this war?

I haltingly give Trump some credit for asking the auto makers to retool and start making ventilators.  They listened and are coming through.  Kudos to them!  Other manufacturers also heard the call and are making PPEs and other medical necessities as the need for them grows.

However, the way Trump wants to have it done is for the 50 governors make their own purchases for their respective states.  This is an absolutely abominable way to address this crisis.  We then have each governor bidding against each other for the needed equipment.  They then end up driving the prices up to the point that, while New York might be able to afford to stock their larders, Kansas probably cannot.  Is this any way to run a country?  Again, not on your life!

What I would suggest is for the federal government to purchase as many ventilators as can be produced, distribute them to the areas that need them, then when the need subsides or abates altogether, store them in several warehouses around the country for the next pandemic.  This way the costs can be kept under control (zero no-bid contracts), they are readily available when needed and can go to where they’re needed.  This is a much more streamlined way to meet the needs of the nation in a national crisis.

Trump, the businessman, has always been friendly to the tool of eminent domain when it (invariably) suits his purposes.  Here’s another idea…  New York, Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles, or wherever should exercise the tool of eminent domain and commandeer his hotels wherever and whenever they are needed to use as either sleeping quarters for medical staffs who are on the front lines of this war or, in the alternative, as Coronavirus treatment centers.  True, the stimulus bill prohibits Trump or any of his immediate family members from any benefits arising from the bill, but paying the Trump Corporation a fair and equitable rate, based on non-luxury local rates,  would be acceptable in my view.  Just compensation is the only metric that should be used in this scenario.

In closing, I cannot help but observe that, of the two men above, there is only one who is acting presidential throughout this whole ordeal.  Betcha can’t guess which one I’m referring to.  Of course, it’s Andrew Cuomo.  His demeanor and grasp of the facts is beyond that of any politician—especially Donald Trump.  He doesn’t speak in platitudes and heap praise on his “buddies” or—most importantly—himself.  He doesn’t bully anyone nor make anyone have to cow-tow to his point of view.  He speaks in everyday language that everyone can understand.  He is the kind of person I feel very strongly after watching him over the past few days to be the person who should be leading this country.  While my political leanings are to the Progressive end of the spectrum, I am very impressed with Cuomo and would vote for him in a heartbeat over Joe Biden or any other Democrat for that matter.  I would not be opposed to his being drafted as the Democratic candidate to oppose Trump come November.

But right now the most important thing is defeating Coronavirus.  As Lincoln once said, “Would that this scourge might soon pass”.

My Spiritual Journey

November 18, 2018

As is our practice in Sarasota Monthly Meeting (Quakers), occasionally  someone is asked to share their spiritual journey.  Today happened to be the day that I shared mine. Several asked me to write it out for inclusion in the meeting’s Oral History notebook, so here goes…

As many know, I consider myself a recovering Methodist.  When I was ten years old we moved to the Washington DC suburbs and a couple years later my folks bought their first house.  Our minister, Ralph Haugh and his wife, Margaret (Uncle Ralph and Aunt Margaret) came to be our folks’ best friends.  They became godparents to they youngest of we four kids, Margaret.

I really admired “Uncle Ralph” and decided that I wanted to become a minister, just like him.  I then took on a “holier than thou” attitude and was really obnoxious about it.  Applying to and being accepted by North Carolina Wesleyan College, my route to the ministry was all set.  However, my plans came to a screeching halt when I was complimented in front of my American History class by our teacher, David Turner—the man who turned my life around but never knew it.  I had written a term paper entitled, “The Sharecropper in the Depression”, which he said was one of the best he had ever read.  BAM!!!  I then began to consider a major in history with the prospect of eventually becoming a teacher.  My preachy attitude melted away and I knew the ministry wasn’t for me.  In fact, even though I attended church every Sunday in Rocky Mount, NC, I hated the fact of mandatory chapel at Wesleyan every Thursday morning.

The Vietnam War was raging and I got a notice to get my draft physical, the first step in being into the Army.  I figured that, if I had to to to Vietnam, it would be on my terms, not LBJ’s.  I enlisted in the Air Force, married Pam in June 1967, and arrived Tan Son Nhut Air Base in Saigon a couple weeks later.  I hadn’t attended church in a while and saw no reason to start.  Once the Tet Offensive started, all bets were off.  One night we came under attack and, bunking on the top floor of the barracks, I ran down the stairs and turned the corner of the building, seeking cover.  Before I got to the door I saw a dog running hell bent for election, not knowing what was going on or why.  I felt so much empathy for that pitiful dog and began to immediately ask myself what was the use for war and why did it have to happen?  That incident—the most seminal moment in my life—started me on my path toward pacifism.

Upon returning to the States, being discharged, returning to college to finish my degree—in history, of course—and moving to central Wisconsin I never had any thoughts of going to church.  Pam and her folks were not churchgoers, so why should I be one?  We were starting to look into the adoption process and figured we’d have to go through a church affiliated adoption service, so we began researching Protestant religions but none of them came close to reflecting what we believed.  As it turned out, we went through the State of Wisconsin to adopt our son, David.

We moved to Madison, WI in 1980 and still were not churchgoers.  I was content to read the Sunday paper, watch the news programs, and football games.  Then in late 1987 things started to change.  The Isthmus is a small weekly tabloid paper in Madison.  I picked up a copy and on the front page was a full cover of a woman with her eyes closed in a worshipful state, with the headline something like “Quakers in Madison”—a long article about the Madison Friends Meeting.  I read the article with great interest and had Pam do likewise.  The article spoke to me so we decided to attend worship.  Pam, David (age 13) and I attended the first two weeks.  The silent worship did nothing for them, but I was hooked.  

I continued going and became a regular attender for about four years, whereupon I was asked if I would consider being Assistant Clerk for the 

9 AM Meeting for Worship.  I agreed, but when the nominating slate for the upcoming 1992-93 year was presented, one of the elders of the meeting asked why a non-Quaker should be assistant clerk.  A discussion was had and Clerk of the Meeting, Dottie Churchwell, commented that perhaps such might entice me to request membership in Madison Meeting.  Sure enough, about 6-8 months later, I petitioned for membership and was accepted as a member of MMM.  

There were three men (Quaker gurus, as I called them) who had great influence on me—John Anderson and Francis Hole, retired professors at the University of Wisconsin, and Lewy Olfsen, a retired librettist.  The way they carried themselves and the aura of each were so influential on me.  John and Francis are gone, but Lewy is still living in Madison and I take with him once or twice a year.  While at Madison MM, I became much of the liberal thinker and person that I am today.  I learned to appreciate persons for who they are and to stand up more and more for the things I believed were right, be they protesting wars, writing politicos, letters to the editor, and so on.  In real life, I was a casualty claims manager and was probably the most liberal insurance person in the state, if not one of the most liberal in the entire industry.

Upon moving to Bradenton, FL in July 2006 I continued my Quaker ways by attending the Sarasota Friends Meeting (SMM).  Lewy had told me that I should wait for at least a year before transferring my membership to SMM—to make sure it felt right for me.  I immediately dived into the life of SMM by volunteering to serve on the Meetinghouse Committee.  I figured that such would grant me the opportunity to get to know the meeting and how it operated.

As my relationship with SMM grew, I felt it was time to transfer my membership, which I did in 2007.  My spiritual growth continued when I was asked to become Acting Clerk in Fall 2009 while Clerk of the Meeting Rolf Hanson and his family spent the fall term at Pendle Hill.  Way opened and I was eventually asked to take on the role of Clerk of the Meeting.   This was yet another opportunity for spiritual growth, something I relished.  Not realizing it before, but I had become a sort of “go to” person for things the meeting might need, either physically or spiritually.  I am very grateful for the three years spent as Clerk.  

Shortly after the 2017 inauguration of the current occupant of the Oval Office, Clerk Lesley Jacobs instituted Meetings for Healing on Wednesday afternoons at the meetinghouse.  It was during one of these meetings I had a mystical experience.  As we were sitting in silent worship, I felt the presence of someone behind my right shoulder.  I tried to peek behind me without moving my head and being obvious about it, but to no avail.  When Lesley broke the meeting with the usual handshake, I turned around to find no one there.  No one had entered or left the room while we were in worship and I was completely mystified and dumbfounded.  I then realized that I had experienced something I had never experienced before in my life.  

Guru Francis Hole always spoke of the “Divine Companion” that sat on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.  I now know what he felt.  I now have my own Divine Companion that  sits on my right shoulder and lets me know if I do something I shouldn’t have done.  When that happens all I can do is pat myself on the right shoulder in an effort to let him/her know I know I screwed up.  Fortunately for me, those times are getting fewer and farther between.

Muhammad Ali once said, “Service to others is the rent we pay for our place here on Earth.”  That’s what I feel I am doing—paying my rent.  Be it giving rides, financial assistance, spiritual uplifting, comforting, or whatever—I am doing what I can with what I have to offer.  The spiritual reward I get from such far outweighs what I have to give.  I get much more out of what I get than what I give.  To me, that is what life is all about.  Give of yourself to others without thought of what the return will be.

Assault Weapons and the 2nd Amendment

“…the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”  So says the Second Amendment.  It is not as rigid as some would have us believe.  The courts have ruled as much.

No one has the right to own a rocket propelled grenade; a surface to air missile; an operational Army tank; an armed fighter jet; nor even a live hand grenade.  Why then should anyone have the right to own an assault rifle?  

Assault rifles are just that—weapons of war, like those mentioned above.  They are used to assault the enemy during times of war.  They are meant to kill human beings—not to hunt deer; big game; nor anything else of the like.  If one needs an assault rifle to protect their home, they’re either a really bad shot or a really bad person!

A recent Defense Department study showed that since 9/11, 6929 U.S. service personnel have been killed as a result of combat operations.  Since the Sandy Hook massacre in late 2012, roughly 7000 children have been killed by gunfire.  Think about it:  6929 deaths over 16 years and 6 months vs. 7000 deaths over 5 years and 4 months.  When is it going to stop?

Congress has been bought and paid for by the NRA.  It’s time that we the people do something about it.  What we need is a congress that is not beholden to those who make their money off the deaths of others.  They say that all politics is local.  Must we wait for a school shooting here on the Suncoast for it to become political for us?  I think not.  Let’s let our congressmen and senators know we’re not going to take it any more.  While we’re at it, we may as well let the governor know.  Let’s suggest they all reject any financial support from the NRA if they truly care for their constituents.  If they continue to accept NRA money, vote them out or refuse to vote them in.

Listening to My Own Drummer

We all are—or should be—aware of the practice of professional athletes taking a knee during the playing of the national anthem.  A great deal of debate has arisen over these athletes exercising their First Amendment rights.  As a Quaker and as a liberal, I am in full support of anyone’s freedom to express themselves in any reasonable way possible.  If it be the taking of a knee, turning one’s back on a speaker, or remaining seated during the playing of the national anthem, so be it.  I do not view it as disrespecting the flag or veterans.  In the contrary, I view it as their right as an American to make their statement in their own way.

Over the past two years plus at the playing of the “Star Spangled Banner” before any baseball game I have attended—over 200—I have declined to remove my hat.  Early Quakers, from what I know, refused to remove their hats in the presence of the king.  Why, on God’s green earth, should I be required to remove my hat for a piece of cloth?  A friend of mine—a retired Air Force colonel—became quite upset with me and told me that he felt like putting his fist through my face when I first declined to remove my cap or salute the flag.  Over time, his anger cooled and we are now back on good terms.

A few weeks ago I became rather upset with Donald Trump’s caving into both Kim Jung Un and Vladimir Putin.  His giving away the house while getting nothing in return from Kim in return and his taking Putin’s word over those of the U.S. Intelligence Service regarding the meddling in the 2016 by the Russians was the last straw.  At that point I decided that I should no longer stand for the national anthem and the piece of cloth that represents a government led by a person so corrupt and in love with himself and not acting like a leader when such is needed, I just couldn’t stomach it any longer.  At that point, I decided that I could no longer stand during the national anthem.

What started out as a protest has morphed into a spiritual leading for me.  A good friend of mine from the Madison (WI) Friends Meeting remarked on one of my Facebook posts that he doesn't stand for the national anthem.  Considering Chuck’s words and his practice, I have come to the realization that in being true to myself, it is no longer necessary for me to follow the lead of the crowd, standing when they do; saluting when they do; and following their path.  I am blazing my own trail and will go whither it leads me.

Some of my baseball buddies took heated exception to my “statement” and started giving me a bunch of grief.  One of my supposed buddies, Mike Sullivan, really lit into me a couple weeks ago, trying to psychoanalyze me while asserting that he has a Masters degree in psychology.  To be quite honest, I really don’t give a crap about his two PhDs or his three Masters.  He said I was just trying to get attention to myself.  I responded that I’ve been doing that for the past ten seasons the the Bradenton Marauders have been in town, by heckling the opposition teams.

As has been my practice, when a young person is singing “The Star Spangled Banner”, rather than remaining seated I will go behind the grandstand until they have finished.  Last evening I approached my seat with the intention of dropping off my backpack and going behind the grandstand when Mike all of a sudden bellowed out to a woman standing in the aisle that, “This guy doesn’t stand during the national anthem”.  I immediately decided to sit out not only the singing of the anthem but also the striking of the colors by the local Civil Air Patrol cadets who had presented them as part of the opening ceremonies.  Just as the first pitch was being thrown, Sullivan got in my face and started hollering at me about my disrespecting the flag and the veterans who fought for it (he knows that I’m a veteran, but it doesn’t make any difference to him).  He kept hollering at me and berating me, again saying that I was out to draw attention to myself.  I kept my cool and finally, in a very un-Quakerly and calm way said, “Fuck you”.  That really got him wound up and he demanded that I repeat what I had said for the benefit of a couple Marauder officials—Nick, the Head of Stadium Operations; and Craig, the Assistant General Manager.  I obliged him and all I got was a grin from both gentlemen.  Mike, in all his high and mightiness, while still berating me, dropped a shit bomb me, which I immediately asked Nick and Craig if they had heard it.

I kept my cool the entire time—even while inviting Sullivan to “be fruitful and multiply” in so many words.  A couple cops were alongside Nick and Craig in case things got out of hand.  Of course, Mike finally diverted his attention from me to the baseball game and cooled down after a while.  I don’t know what got into him this evening.  Perhaps it was because Big Tom, an Air Force vet who sits behind us and who had been absent for the last home stand, was there.  I guess Mike must have felt he had adequate back-up in Tom.  In any event, we enjoyed watching the game—although not the final score—and commented back and forth to each other about game situations as if nothing had happened.

I can hardly wait for tonight’s game…

Total Disgust

Never in my life have I been so disgusted with the United States government as I have been lately.  The only time prior to this when I have been ashamed was in May 1970 when several Ohio National Guardsmen opened fire, killing and wounding several students at Kent State University.  Even though the act was done by “citizen soldiers”, it was the only time I was ashamed to be in a military (USAF) uniform.

I, along with many Americans, have endured Nixon, Reagan, and the Bushes.  However, when it comes to Donald Trump—whom I refer to as the so-called President—I cannot tolerate.  He is a person on an ego trip who has no concept of concern for others—only for himself.  The fact that this slimy specimen of human protoplasm became president is as baffling as it is unbelievable.  He spoke to the underbelly of American culture, telling them what they wanted to hear while pissing off those who wanted no part of him or Hillary Clinton.  As a result, those who voted for him as well as the many millions who either failed to vote or voted for any other warm body got this prick into the Oval Office.

Events over the past couple weeks have led me to totally renounce the U.S. Government as anything it resembled, even during the Bush II years.  Trump pissed off the other G-8 nations by refusing to sign the accord that was primarily authored by the United States.  He then met with Kim Jung Un in Singapore—a meeting we all  had high hopes for.  The result?  Giving Kim the status he so craved—to be seen as a legitimate national leader.  In addition, Kim got the promise of no more war games with the South Koreans.  What did we get in return?  Zero; Zip; Nada!!!    

What’s next, you ask.  No less than a trade war with our biggest trading partners—Canada, China, Mexico, and Japan.  Thanks to Trump’s executive orders, we are now in a trade war with our traditional trading partners.  Add to this Trump’s backing out of the Iran nuclear deal, we are now seeing rising gasoline prices.  Couple this with the trade war and the sonofabitch will end up ruining the American economy while enriching the pockets of his cronies and big business tycoons.  Gas prices are already on the rise.

The last straw came with Jeff Sessions’ edict that children of illegal immigrants should and must be separated from their parents.  Trump could negate this practice—something which he says he “hates”, but will do nothing other than blame the Democrats for the situation—a bald faced lie!!!  The separating of children from their parents is something reminiscent of what the Germans did to the Jews or, even, what we did to the Japanese Americans and the internment camps to which they were subjected during WWII.

Over the past couple seasons at local baseball games, I have declined to remove my cap during the playing of the National Anthem.  Being a Quaker, my reasoning has been that, since early Friends wooed not remove their hats for the king, why should I remove mine for a piece of cloth?  However, I have now taken that a step further and tonight refused to remove my cap or to even stand for the “Star Spangled Banner”.  Instead, I sat, with my elbows on my knees and my head bowed, looking at the floor below.

Until such time as my government makes me feel good about it, this will be my practice.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am as patriotic as anyone you will ever meet.  However,  patriotism can be expressed in many ways.  This is my way of expressing my sense of patriotism.

Reflections on Father's Day - 2018

This morning in Meeting for Worship, one of the women stood and gave a message, reflecting on Father’s Day and how “God the Father” created us all in his image, saying that we all need to be reflections of God in everything we say and do.

I too had been reflecting, but in different terms.  I kept getting the image of a televangelist ranting and raving, putting his hand up to his ear while looking heavenward and pleading, “What’s that God?  You want me to do what???”  If anything, God does not need to be told to speak up or with more clearly!

I have always been somewhat of a spiritual person—especially for the past 30 years or so.  Having gone to a small Methodist college in the Bible Belt of North Carolina, I found myself force fed religion.  In fact, even in high school I had the preposterous idea that I wanted to be a Methodist minister—a notion, thankfully, I put aside because of a positive comment made to me by my high school history teacher, David Turner.  It was upon leaving college that I realized organized religion was not for me.

Anyway, reflecting on my worshipful reverie this morning, I came to realize that I must work harder on reflecting my inner Light.  In doing so, I would hope to engender the inner Light in others—be they Quakers or not—to be the best they could be. I am often praised by others for my volunteerism, be it for hospice or for personal friends.  Muhammad Ali once said, “Service to others is the rent we pay for our space here on Earth”.  I am paying my rent, and if my rent payments inspire others, then I am much the better person for it, as are they…

Good Good Bye and Good Riddance - 2017

Here I sit, in the opening hour of 2018, hoping that this year is better than the last.  2017 wasn’t  a total loss, but it was close.  Pam I made our first visit to Wisconsin since our son’s, David’s, marriage in 2010.  We had a wonderful time spending a long weekend in Madison, visiting with him and his family as well as with longtime friends.

In addition, I returned to Rocky Mount, NC for the 50th homecoming of the NC Wesleyan College class of 1967.  Unfortunately, I was the only member of the Class of ’67 who was there.  I doubt seriously if I’ll ever make another trek back to Rocky Mount.

However, the biggest disappointment of the year was having to endure the presidency of Donald Trump.  In many ways, this was the saddest year of my life.  For starters, I was so put off by his election that I absolutely refused to honor him by watching the inauguration.  Instead, I took in a movie, “The Accountant”, a movie wherein Ben Affeck was a CPA who had a night job as a hit man—kinda like a TV reality star who has a night job as the leader of the Free World.  

At first, I was willing to give Trump the benefit of the doubt, but as the year wore along, I realized that having him as President is the worst scenario I could have imagined.  His rhetoric in opposition to and the baiting of Kim Jung Un of North Korea was something that concerned me.  I am not too thrilled with the prospect of having Mike Pence as president but, after due consideration, I came to the determination that having a homophobic Bible thumper sitting in the Oval Office was much better than having a crotch grabbing narcissist with his finger on the button was much more preferable.  Trump’s actions clearly demonstrate a willingness to overstep his builds as President and abuse his powers as the Chief Executive.

For one, he wanted to pardon AZ Sheriff Joe Arpayo who had been convicted under AZ law of contempt of court in his arrest and treatment of prisoners in Phoenix.  In addition, his overturning executive orders issued by his predecessor, Barack Obama—orders meant to serve and improve the lives of Americans—have given me great concern.

Trump is nothing more than a narcissist who wants only for things to go his way and, if they don’t, the hell with the rest of you…  I have never been so bitterly opposed to a president as I am opposed to Donald Trump.  I hated LBJ because he make me fight in a must unjust and illegal war. I despised Nixon because of his overstepping his bounds of the presidency (“If the President does it, it’s not illegal.”), but I have to admit that , at first, I didn’t think he should resign because of the precedent it would set.  However, I finally changed my time. Trump, on the other hand, is in a category all by himself.  

Trump's use of power and his cavalier attitude toward the office he holds is most repugnant to me and, the sooner we are rid of, as John Dean called it, “this cancer on the Presidency”, the better off we’ll all be.

What is Insignificant?

The Hubble Space Telescope has confirmed what I heard as a teenager--that there are more stars than there are grains of sand on all the beaches in the entire world.  That makes our round blue marble a bit insignificant in the overall scheme of things.

All great things that have happened over the course of human history has begun as a single thought in a person's mind.  Be it Jesus; Muhammad; Samuel Adams; Thomas Edison; or whomever...  They all made a difference.  Rachel Carson, author of The Silent Spring, once stated, “Never think that a small group of people cannot change the world.  In truth, it’s the only thing that really has!”  To think that any one of us is insignificant, just check out these examples.

Better yet, if you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.

I am... AMERICAN!!!

I am Muslim;

I am Jewish;

I am Catholic;

I am Buddhist;

I am Athiest;

I am Mormon;

I am White; I am Black; I am Red; I am Yellow; I am Brown;

I am gay; I am straight; I am a tranny; I am celibate; I am married;
I am divorced;

I am Skinny; I am Fat; I am a Vet; I am I am Disabled; I am Fit; 
I Struggle;

I am Democrat;

I am Republican;

I am Libertarian; 

I am Independent;

I am Communist.

I am Socialist;

I am Progressive;

I am ashamed of our Corrupted Government:

- A Congress that allows itself to be bought by the highest bidder;

- A President who:

- Did not receive a majority of the popular vote;

- Pandered to the ugly underbelly of American society;

- Lied to the folks who supported him during the campaign;

- Allowed his campaign to be manipulated by Foreign Interests;

- Has not a clue as to what it takes to be President;

- Fills his administration with his Monied Cronies;

- Cares much more about money than about people

- Continuously lies to the American (and foreign) people;

- Is dismantling years worth of environmental progress;

- Feels he is the be all and end all when it comes to governing;

- Is a narcissistic crotch grabber;

- Has done nothing to heal the wounds after Charlottesville;

- Was forced to make a break with the racists and bigots;

- The list goes on and on……..

An American Tragedy in Perspective

As I sat in silent worship this morning at the Sarasota Friends Meeting (Quaker) my thoughts were, as were those of many millions of Americans, on the 9/11 attacks that occurred fifteen years ago today.  We all remember where we were when we first heard of the attacks.  I was on my way to Springfield, IL from my home in the Madison, WI area, to visit Lincoln’s hometown.  Knowing my son, David, had an appointment for a job interview, I called him at 9 AM (Central time) to make sure he was awake and he told me of the attacks.   I was heartsick at the news and cancelled my trip, returning home for three straight days of TV watching.

True, the 9/11 attacks were a most profound matter of national concern and outrage—the Pearl Harbor of my generation—but when one considers it in the context of American historical events, it pales in comparison.

Millions of Africans were either kidnapped or born into slavery.  When one considers what many of them went through in terms of beatings, killings, having their families split up, and generally treated as little more than work horses, 9/11 doesn’t even hold a candle.  Even after slavery was outlawed forever by the 13^th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, the ex-slaves’ treatment was not much better than it had been before.   The Jim Crow laws in the South and the birth and rise of the Ku Klux Klan caused the wrongful  imprisonment, murders, and lynchings of untold  numbers of ex-slaves and their descendants.

The displacement of Native Americans—mainly Cherokee, Seminole, Muskogee, Choctaw, and Chickasaw--from their ancestral homelands in the Southeast to reservations in present-day Oklahoma was simply a wrongful eviction facilitated by the Indian Removal Act of 1830.   The law was declared unconstitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court, to which President Andrew Jackson responded, “They made their ruling.  Now let them enforce it”.  The Cherokee were the last to be removed from Georgia to Oklahoma and, of the 16,543 that began the trek, somewhere between 2000 and 6000 of them perished along the way, giving rise to the term, “Trail of Tears”.

The illegal and unnecessary wars in Vietnam and Iraq (in particular), as well as the invasion of Afghanistan were American Tragedies.  I am a Vietnam vet who was there during the Tet Offensive of 1968.  My path toward pacifism started during a rocket attack one night.  We were being showered with rockets and mortars.  As I was running for cover, I spied a dog running hell bent for election not knowing what was going on or why.  I immediately identified with the poor guy, feeling sorrow and compassion for him and his totality of angst.  Having attended and graduated from a small college—N.C. Wesleyan—I, like many others of my generation, lost friends--three of whom were college buddies.   In fact, a fourth student, whom I did not know, was also killed.  The Vietnam War was an American Tragedy of epic proportions, yet we tend to forget with the passage of time.

While it’s understandable that the foul tastes left in the mouths of Americans could justify an invasion of Afghanistan in order to topple the rule of the Taliban and hoped-for capture of Osama bin Laden, there was absolutely no justification for the invasion of Iraq.  Saddam had not harbored the 9/11 terrorists nor did he have any WMDs that were used as a lie and excuse for invasion.  The loss of life, both to civilians and soldiers is regrettable.  But even more so is the inadequate and even denied medical care given to American G.I.s who were wounded—either physically or emotionally—during the course of the war.  It is a tragic situation that many volunteered for what they felt was their patriotic duty when America needed them, but where was America when these poor souls needed it?

There are many other American Tragedies that could be cited and explained away—Pearl Harbor; the JFK and Lincoln assassinations; the Indian Wars; and the like—but my purpose here is to remind folks that tragedies occur and that those in the past should not be forgotten.  They should be remembered for what they were and serve as reminders that we can always be better as we progress on this journey called life.

What I Believe

I just wanted to touch on a few points. I am a liberal. In fact, I am so liberal, that I am close to being socialist. I believe in a single-payer National Health Care system for all people, because it can only benefit, even the least among us. We should all have access to medical care, because we all have the right to live.

I also believe in a reasonable national minimum wage in the amount of not less than $15.00 per hour. Not only would such guarantee such wage earners a bit more to live on, but it would also put more money into the economy, by allowing at least some disposable income.

I also believe we are put on this Earth to be of service to one another. To enrich oneself at the expense of others is simply not right. Pay your fair share of taxes; do not deny education or social programs to those unable to afford them. Treat others as you would wish to be treated.

I believe in education for all people. Other countries do it, so why can't we? If we had a system, such as what Denmark has in place, maybe we wouldn't have some of the ignorance from the other side, as we do. I believe that's what a big part of the problem is. Denmark is gung ho about people who come to their country to become citizens, getting a FREE education, and also three years of free language courses! Everyone should have that right.

I also want to stress that I respect everyone, no matter what their belief system is. I don't care if you're a Christian, Jewish, Muslin, atheist, or whatever. You are still a person. Liberals have compassion and empathy, and take the high road. To do otherwise is to deny your own humanity.

What's Goin' On?

Dallas…  I hate—hated—Dallas since November 22^nd, 1963.  Over the past 52 plus years I have had absolutely no use for that city.  Even worse are the Dallas Cowboys.  I hate that team more than God hates sin!  The only good thing I can say about it is that its name was used as the title of a great evening soap opera in the 1980’s.

However, things started to change last Thursday evening with the killing of five police officers.  Folks were peacefully marching to protest the two black men shot to death by cops in Louisiana and Minnesota over the preceding two days, when a black who apparently saw himself as an avenger took it upon himself to wreak vengeance on the police by shooting eleven police officers, killing five, who were monitoring the peaceful protest.  For this reason, my bitter feelings about Dallas are starting to ease.  One possible reason—beyond the policemen who were shot to death—is the way their police chief, David Brown, has comported himself.  He has had more than anyone’s share of grief, having lost his brother, his son, and his partner to gunfire.  Despite these tragedies, perhaps because of them, he has become a rock to whom all should look up to and admire for his strength of character.

The recent shooting deaths of two African Americans is a continuance of what seems to have become the norm in American society.  More and more, it seems, unarmed blacks are being murdered by the police while armed whites are being arrested with few, if any, shots being fired.  Take for instance, the death of Eric Garner of Staten Island, NY who was choked to death for selling cigarettes on a sidewalk; or Tamir Rice, a 12 year old who was “armed” with a toy gun in Cleveland; or Freddie Gray, who was given a rough ride despite a broken back; or Walter Scott, who was shot in the back in North Charleston, SC.

Compare these with the arrests of Dylann Roof, who murdered nine African Americans at a prayer service in Charleston, SC; Jason Dalton, who murdered six people in Kalamazoo, MI; Eric Rudolph, the Atlanta Olympics bomber; or even Ted Kaczinski, the Unibomber,  These men are all lily white, yet they were arrested and not shot to death by the police.

Unfortunately, there is a strong specter of institutional racism inherent in American society--some may call it “white privilege”—but it is as prevalent in society as is baseball and politics.  When a policeman approaches a car with a white driver, he is not as apprehensive as he would be when approaching a car with a black driver.  Not knowing if the black person is armed, the adrenaline gets to pumping and the tension rises.  Stopping a white driver, on the other hand, the officer tends not to be as concerned for his own safety.

We MUST become aware of our own humanity and do away with the confrontational attitudes that we foist on others all the time.  It can be a “F*ck you” and flipping the bird at a discourteous driver or telling someone with whom we disagree to kiss our ass!  The problem today, as I see it, is that we have lost the compassion we felt for others, such as we did when I was growing up in the ‘50’s.  There is way too much bigotry in today’s American society.  Sure, there was much bigotry and prejudice in those days.  The civil rights movement of the 1950’s and ‘60’s did much to advance the rights of minorities that we white folks took for granted.  I never thought I’d ever see an African American president, but here we are in the final year of Barack Obama’s second term.  Not all that much has seemed to change in the past 60 years.  The latent bigotry that had been festering broke forth in all its ugliness.  It is as if the light in a dark room was turned on and suddenly all the cockroaches became visible.

What the future holds, I know not.  I can only hope that whatever it is our children and grandchildren can handle it better than we have.  

Why I Do Not Salute the American Flag

Being a student of history and a spiritual person, I have been given to consider recently the necessity of going through the rituals of standing and removing my hat during the playing of the national anthem.  History tells me that the early Quakers, feeling that everyone is equal in God’s eyes, deigned to remove their hats in the presence of the king.  Being a person of a spiritual rather than a secular frame of mind, I began to consider a few months ago if it was keeping with my spiritual being to stand and remove my hat during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner.  I came to the conclusion that my spirituality meant more to me than an empty exercise.

                                                                                                                              

Being a Quaker who swears no oaths, I appeared in several trials in my career as an insurance claimsman and would only affirm--not swear--to tell the truth.  Likewise, I refuse to stand and repeat the Pledge of Allegiance.  I have only had one occasion in recent history where such was the case.  Recently, I attended a meeting of the Anna Maria, FL city council as an interested observer in an issue they were considering.  I was given no grief by anyone at my remaining seated.

Last week I was at my usual haunt—McKechnie Field in Bradenton—to attend a Bradenton Marauder’s baseball game.  When the time came for the national anthem, everyone was asked to stand and remove their hats whilst the anthem was being played.  I stood, but did not remove my hat, as has been my usual recent practice.  Afterwards, one of the ushers—a good friend of mine and retired Air Force colonel—came over to me and asked if I had forgotten to take my hat off.  Without thinking or measuring my words, I snapped back at him that I refuse to remove my hat for no body or no thing.  That really got under his skin and he told me that, in his opinion, I was a f*cking asshole and stormed off.  I tried to explain to him later, but he told me that he didn’t want to hear anything from me and it was all he could do to keep from putting his fist through my face.  Of course, it bothered me somewhat, because I think so highly of Jack.

A couple days later, at a July 4^th weekend game, I approached Jack about halfway through the game—wearing a patriotic hat with a American flag attached to it—and said to him that he may think of me as an asshole, but I wished he would at least think of me as a patriotic asshole.  He apologized to me for what he had said and I apologized to him for the way I had responded to his inquiry.  We shook hands, gave somewhat of a “man hug”, and I told him that I didn’t want to lose his friendship and we went about our business.  Later on during the game I was talking with one of the other ushers, when Jack passed by and gave me a poke in the belly with his finger.  I then knew we were back together as friends.

I, too, am an Air Force veteran and can understand Jack’s feelings of patriotism and why he feels that way.  He spent his career in the Air Force and I honor him for that.  To my mind, the old Vietnam War jingoistic chant of, “My country, right or wrong…” holds no water.  When my country is right I can live with that.  However, when my country is wrong, it’s my patriotic duty to change it.

But to insist that I must salute the flag by removing my hat, telling me I must recite a meaningless pledge to an inanimate object, or swear a vow that I disavow, I feel it is my right as a person NOT to engage in meaningless rituals.  In not doing such, I am being true to myself.  I need no one else’s approval.  I need only that approval that comes from within.

American Values in Question

Last night, as usual, I attended a Bradenton Marauders (Pittsburgh Pirates Advanced Class A affiliate) ballgame.  The game had been advertised as Military Heroes Night, recognizing 20 active duty and veteran service people.  I walked down Ninth Street to the main gate of McKechnie Field and, as I turned toward the gate I saw a giant inflatable quonset hut leading to the gate emblazoned with “GOARMY.COM” on the front.  Being a Quaker and pacifist, I started to do a slow boil since I had to walk through the damn thing to gain entry.

Once inside there was a table with Army recruiters handing out enlistment propaganda.  There were many people milling about, as it was also Craft Beer Night.  As I made my way through the crowd to my seat I came to realize that there were several military personnel about along with some recruits who were to be inducted.  I went over to talk with some friends about baseball and how the Marauders have been doing of late (fortunately, pretty well).  An announcement was made that the recruits were about to be sworn in, something I had no wish to observe or be a part of, so I made my way out of the stands and to one of the beer bars to get ready for the start of the game.

To digress a bit…  Early Quakers believed in equality the equality of persons before God.  Among the things they declined to do was to remove their hats in the presence of the king.  I have been thinking lately that perhaps I should follow suit and decline to remove my hat during the playing of the national anthem before each game.  As one who opposes the swearing of oath, an original tenant of Quakerism—that integrity of one does not need to swear to tell the truth.  Akin to this is that we disdain the honoring of one person or thing above another.  As such, I refuse to stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. 

Similarly, I question if I should stand and remove my hat (as directed) during the Star Spangled Banner.  Last night, when the anthem was sung, I decided it was time to make my stand against all the militarism that was present.  I did not take my hat off nor did I stand erect.  I merely slouched against the bar awaiting the end of the song and the start of the ballgame.

I have come to a point in my life when I am questioning the values of the United States.  We no longer live in a democracy but in an oligarchy with those with the money calling the shots.  Congress is bought and paid for by the 1% and does everything in its power to maintain that imbalance.  Congress authorizes—many times against the wants and desires of the military—weapons systems that are neither wanted nor needed; they authorize the building of airplanes that either do not work as promised or are immediately mothballed.  To make matters worse, Congress refuses to allocate money to take care of wounded veterans or those suffering from PTSD.  I shudder to think of what might befall any of the recruits that were inducted into the Army last night.

Congress will do nothing to address the rise in gun-related violence, despite the call by the vast majority of Americans to do something.  The NRA has taken over and quashed the discussion about reasonable gun control legislation.  From Columbine, to VA Tech, to Sandy Hook, to Aurora, to Ft. Hood, to Umpqua Community College in Oregon, and now to Orlando.  “How many deaths will it take ‘til we know that too many people have died?”  It is so damn ridiculous to know that persons on the “No-Fly List” are not on the “No-Buy List”—that such persons, if legally qualified otherwise, can purchase firearms, from a .22 pistol to an AR-15 assault rifle.

WHEN IS AMERICA GOING TO WAKE UP AND THROW THE RASCALS OUT WHO PERMIT SUCH ENABLING LEGISLATION TO ENDURE?  “The answer, my friend…”

Memorial Day—What Does It Mean?

I, along with many other people, get a bit upset that Memorial Day has lost its meaning.  The first Memorial Day was organized by ex-slaves in Charleston, SC on May 1, 1865 to recognize and honor the dead Union forces that were killed so that they might live in freedom.

Nowadays, people tend to confuse Memorial Day with Veterans Day, reaping platitudes on their fathers and others who served in various wars—people who are still living and were not killed during wartime.  Memorial Day is set aside to honor the ones killed so that we might also live in freedom.  Worse yet are those who commercialize the day with their sales; any excuse for a sale.  This past Friday there was an ad in one of the local papers that went:

 "Pamaro Shop Furniture Remembers Our Nation's HEROES who paid the Ultimate Sacrifice So That We May Live Free... 40% off All Furniture in Stock..."

How tacky is that???  I don’t care what any merchant is selling, be it furniture, mattresses, cars, or whatever…   Memorial Day is apparently a day set aside to honor all who died so that merchants can have their damn sales!

I have a special connection with one of those who lost his life in service to his country.  My Dad’s brother, William, was killed in a plane crash in Australia—the deadliest airplane crash in Australian history.  He was returning from R&R to New Guinea when the B-17, which was being used as a troop transport, crashed at Baker’s Creek in Queensland on June 14^th, 1943 and I was born nine months later on March 17^th, 1944.  According to Dad, I was conceived the night they got the news of Uncle William’s death (“the train lurched”, Dad used to joke).  Dad was stationed at Ft. Lee in Petersburg, VA.  He and Mom were returning to hometown Huntington, WV.  (As an aside, Dad was born on a train and I apparently was conceived on one, both on the Norfolk and Western Railroad--I never made the psychic connection until now).

Anyway, we moved to the Washington, DC area in 1954 and every Memorial Day (May 30^th in those days) Grandma and Grandpa Hilsheimer would come to our house and we’d go to Arlington Cemetery to place flowers on William’s grave.  I miss those days.  I miss Grandma and Grandpa.  I miss Mom and Dad.  I also very much miss the time I could have had with Uncle William…

My wish is that Memorial Day will be recognized and revered for what it is—a day of remembrance of those lost to the vagaries of war.  May the time come that war will be no more and that no more Memorial Days will be needed.

What Happened to North Carolina?

Fifty-four years ago I was considering where to attend college.  I had explored colleges in Ohio, West Virginia, and North Carolina.  While I considered Wisconsin and North Carolina to be the most progressive of states, Wisconsin was much too far away, so I settled on one of the fine fifty-two excellent colleges on the Tar Heel State--North Carolina Wesleyan College in Rocky Mount (as an aside, I was blessed to marry a Wisconsin girl and spend my career in the Badger State).

I enrolled at NCWC in 1963 and found that there were still some vestiges of racism and conservatism remaining in the area but, by and large, things were fairly tranquil.  After attending church each Sunday morning,  it was the habit of other students and me to stop by a nearby cafe for a cup of coffee or a Coke before heading back to campus.  One morning however, service was refused to one of our fellow students, Helen Chestnut, a full-blooded Cherokee whose skin was "too dark" for her to be served.  Helen was a beautiful co-ed--both inside and out--who didn't want to make an issue of the situation.  As for the rest of us, we decided then and there, that if she couldn't be served we would not favor them with our patronage.  At some point--possibly 1964-65--the Ku Klux Klan came to town and held a rally in an area farm field.  I had no interest in going, but several of my college buddies--some of them native Tar Heels--went and hooted and harassed those in attendance from the surrounding woods.  They were chased from the area by armed assholes, which made me glad I decided to stay on campus.  At another time, Oral Roberts was holding one of his patented tent revivals, at which some of my buddies got "saved and healed" by the "Oralmeister", himself.  Such was the life of a bunch of college friends who were exploring more liberal ideas and ideals outside their traditional bringing up.

My term at NCWC was interrupted by the Vietnam War, as I was faced with a possible draft notice after my junior year.  I opted to join the Air Force, picking up a semester's worth of college credits and returning in fall 1970 to complete my degree.  Still, I regarded North Carolina as a progressive state, insofar as southern states went.

However, that bubble soon burst.  Upon graduating and living in a central Wisconsin mill town, my news source was primarily the "CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite".  In 1973, firebrand conservative asswipe Jesse Helms--a former conservative commentator for one of the Raleigh TV stations--was elected to the U.S. Senate.  This guy was anti-civil rights, referring to the University of North Carolina (UNC) as the "University of Negroes and Communists".

In the meantime, ambulance chaser John Edwards won election to the Senate as a Democrat in 1998.  Things were looking up.  Hopefully, North Carolina was turning the page and getting ready for the 21st Century.  Unfortunately, such was not to be.  Helms retired from the Senate in 2003 and was replaced by (IMHO) moderately progressive Elizabeth Dole.  Although Dole was a bit less conservative than Helms, she served only one term until defeated by Democrat state senator Kay Hagan in 2008 who, then, was defeated by Republican Thom Tillis in 2014.

The downhill slide of North Carolina has continued, capped by yesterday's signing into law a draconian  measure, denying municipalities and other local governments from enacting laws prohibiting discrimination against lesbians, gays, and transgenders.  Hopefully, the tide will turn in this once wonderful state.  I am the eternal optimist but, as the fiftieth anniversary of my college class will occur next year, with the attendant Homecoming, I wonder if I should spend my good retirement money in a state that is so Middle Ages.  Time will  tell...