Fighting Trump

Winter                                                    Cold Moon

Morpheus continues to elude me. Not sure where he goes, but I wake up, or never fall asleep at odd points throughout the night. Getting old.

I’m going to devote the day after the inauguration to reviewing files I’ve saved in an Evernote folder titled, Fighting Trump. I’ll be looking for a way to act over and against the flood of plunder monkeys (Stephen King) taking up residence in the White House and various cabinet posts.

All politics is local as former speaker of the house Tip O’Neill was fond of saying, so whatever I find will need to have a close connection to Colorado. Could be sagebrush rebellion and public lands related. Maybe immigration. Water policy. National parks. Could be something else. Not sure yet. Need allies, too. Perhaps at Beth Evergreen. Perhaps Progressive Colorado. Perhaps Climate Change action.

 

My Avatar in Minnesota

Winter                                                                             Cold Moon0

I was at the table last night when the Woolly Mammoths gathered at Scott Simpson’s house in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Scott and I tested the Skype connection earlier, both on his laptop and on his new phone. When Mark Odegard came early, I spoke with him using Scott’s phone, able to see and be seen. Video phone calls! No flying cars, but…video phone calls!

Mark told me of his desire to go to Burning Man, holding up a coffee table sized book featuring various art installations from this annual festival of strangeness. He’s always got a next adventure coming on line. This was involves camping out, carrying in all your food and water (a gallon a day for the weeklong event), and required participation. “No observers” is a Burning Man rule.

Later on I was able to check-in along with Bill Schmidt, Warren Wolfe, Frank Broderick, Scott and Mark. This time I was on the laptop at one end of the table, able to see most of the guys, though when individuals checked in, somebody would turn the laptop so I could see that person.

Part of the beauty of 30 year old relationships is knowing the backstory. When Frank talked about helping a young dancer, I knew about his relationships to the arts, especially opera. When Ode talked about Elizabeth and her family, I knew them, having married Ode and Elizabeth. As Scott talked of being snubbed in his workplace, I knew the story of his transition from counselor to financial planner and his plans underway to retire. Warren spoke of cleaning things up at home. I knew about the time when he owned four houses. Bill had positive news for his venture, U-Face-Me, a possible investor. I knew about his coding, his work on mainframe data storage, his life as a Jesuit. Just as, when I spoke of Shadow Mountain, of my new knee, of the book I’m writing, they knew about my past as a Presbyterian minister, of my two ex-wives.

We can hear the subtle resonance of words and feelings, know often where the current dilemma fits into a life. I felt lucky to be part of the meeting last night. Not the same as being there physically, but nourishing in its own way.

Irony Builds Strong Bodies 8 Ways

Winter                                                                           Cold Moon

inaugurationA gentle snow falls at 5:00 am here on Shadow Mountain, kicking off inauguration week. As my brother, Mark, wrote, we’re about to have the biggest political change in our history on Friday. Irony, thy name today is the calendar. Yes, it’s Martin Luther King day and our president-elect, knowing still his base, has made it a day to declare John Lewis a man of too much talk. The layers of irony could not be separated without a welding torch.

There is this, too. The world’s 8 richest men hold as much wealth as the poorest 3.6 billion, half of the world’s population. (NYT on Oxfam report, 1/16/17) In what must be the chief irony of this moment (choosing from so many) a billionaire who has gold plated rooms, towers named after himself and a callous disregard for truth, justice and the American way came to the Presidency thanks to those left behind by this Gilded Age on Steroids.

gilded-age.gjf_The takeaway from this challenge to the roots of our Republic lies in understanding the power of the left behind. In this case those left behind are the former rulers of the land: white men and their families. Their advocates include the KKK, the White Citizen’s Council, various militia and tea party groups and Donald Trump. Wow. Look at that sentence. Yes, the election was lost because former manufacturing workers, miners, those without a college education, came together for one last grasp, leaning far off the carousel horse for the brass ring.

Note that they are far from the only left behind. Think of those 3.6 billion. Think of those whose residence here has suffered barrier after barrier to equal citizenship: blacks, Latinos, LGBT folk, women, immigrants, Native Americans, those very Americans whose champion, Martin Luther King, we celebrate this day, four days before the inauguration.

chaplinBut. Working class whites were left behind. Their pain is real. Their anger justified. Their choice of solutions abysmal. 100 years from now historians will be able to see this strange time we call the 21st century and perhaps be able to pull apart the strands of circumstance making it what it is. Was it really globalization that cost all those good-paying blue collar jobs? How much did automation have to do with it? What role did the increasing diversity of the United States play? We are moving to a nation in which no ethnic group will be a majority of the population.

One real and very difficult problem is education as a divider of the nation*. This excerpt from an ABC News article and the reality of 8 men owning more than 3.6 billion people make a quick explanation for the rise of right wing populism not only here in the U.S., but in Europe, too. The truth is neither liberals nor conservatives know how to repair this chasm. Liberals have ignored the pain of downwardly mobile whites and paid in the coin of the political realm for it. Hopefully, we will now come together as a left-wing and promote policies that will lift up all working class people, once we discover what might work.

BTW: repealing basic health care is not the route toward a solution.

*”Americans with no more than a high school diploma have fallen so far behind college graduates in their economic lives that the earnings gap between college grads and everyone else has reached its widest point on record.

The growing disparity has become a source of frustration for millions of Americans worried that they — and their children — are losing economic ground.

College graduates, on average, earned 56 percent more than high school grads in 2015, according to data compiled by the Economic Policy Institute. That was up from 51 percent in 1999 and is the largest such gap in EPI’s figures dating to 1973.

Since the Great Recession ended in 2009, college-educated workers have captured most of the new jobs and enjoyed pay gains. Non-college grads, by contrast, have faced dwindling job opportunities and an overall 3 percent decline in income, EPI’s data shows.

“The post-Great Recession economy has divided the country along a fault line demarcated by college education,” Anthony Carnevale, director of Georgetown University’s Center on Education and the Workforce, said in a report last year.” ABC News

Choose

Winter                                                                             Cold Moon

climbHow often do we get chances to start over? I guess no more than a couple of times a day. I know, sounds like too little, eh? Maybe you’re right. Let’s go with, oh say, infinite chances. Why? Because each moment brings a choice, paths that you can take from that place to a next one. And, each time you have a choice, you can choose. Differently.

Now you’ll probably say that the baggage carrying you to this moment isn’t amenable to being sloughed off, ignored, put in the past. You’re right. Even on a new path you carry the backpack filled with prior choices. Such a load can be heavy, weighing you down, making forward or sideways or diagonal movements seem sluggish or downright impossible. Or, you can choose to set the backpack down. Just leave it. It won’t matter. All that’s in it is from yesterday or further away in time. Its content will stay there and if you need something, go back and pick it up. After all, it’s your baggage. So, recommendation here: left luggage for your weight.

changeAll right. Now that you’ve made a new choice, gone down a different path, jettisoned the constraints you imagined held you back, get on with it. Afraid? That’s ok. Fear is a clue. You’re alive. The way ahead is uncertain. But, think about it. The way ahead is always uncertain. If fact, we all have to realize that there may be no way ahead. The next moment may find us in the grave. So, given the choice between the grave and doing something you fear–which means you are still alive–you can choose to be, if not brave, at least rugged.

And guess what? Once you’ve gone ahead and made that speech, gone for that interview, told that person how you really feel, jumped off the high board, walked into that first class, settled in your seat for the flight to Nepal, you’re ready for your next choice. And the one after that. And the one after that. You’re free to choose the rest of your life. May as well.