Category: Thinking, thinking

Sunday’s Political Thoughts

Imagine this:

Donald J. Trump, former President of the United States, and Republican nominee for the office again, is holding a rally. Coming on stage to great applause, he begins by attacking someone for some reason. Then, losing interest in what he’s saying, he calls for music and begins dancing. As he dances, he strips off his clothing. While doing that, he chats about his terrific, beautiful body. His laughing crowd energetically applauds. He takes off his clothes until he is completely naked, and then dancing more.

The headlines the next day in a few places, on a few columns, read: “Donald Trump dances and strips.” Few of them ask, “Is this really someone who should be the next president?”

We don’t seem far off from this emperor-has-no-clothes scenario. Buttressed by loyalists’ support that’s mostly emotional, with little rational logic attached to it, Trump believes he can do anything and get away with it. Part of the scenario I just described took place: he stayed on stage, listening to music, and sometimes dancing, at a recent rally. He did not strip. Not yet. But I don’t think that’s far away.

Today’s edition of Trump Weirdness had him chatting about Arnold Palmer’s manhood.

Imagine the headlines we’d see if Kamala Harris came on stage and talked about another person’s genitalia as her opening remarks. And you know who would be shouting the loudest about it would be the right-wing media, the right-wing media who cannot ever say that their leader has no clothes.

Yet, thanks to Trump’s cult and undecided voters — or voters who have decided that they’re not sure that Kamala Harris is up to the task, but are certain Trump is — we have an election that’s too close to call. Or so they say. But polls, you know…

Vote blue. Please. For all of our sanity.

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Saturday’s Political Thoughts

I’m still trying to understand Trump supporters. A NYT article shows how well Trump’s fears and lies are embedded among his supporters.

From the article:

Karen Cannestra does not like that drop box in front of West Bend City Hall.

Ms. Cannestra, 72 and retired, prefers to vote at her polling place in Wisconsin on Election Day, the way it was always done. It goes beyond personal preference, she says. Who knows the motives of the person who’s pulling those ballots out at the end of the day? Couldn’t somebody tamper with the process?

Isn’t that exactly what happened in 2020, she asked, when, she felt, the election was stolen?

“I don’t trust it, the drop box,” Ms. Cannestra said, before walking into City Hall to pay a utility bill. “No, no, no.”

So, she felt the election was stolen. “Who knows the motives of the person pulling those ballots out at the end of the day?” she wonders.

As much as anything, she’s flouting her ignorance. Not only on how the voting process works, etc. She’s flouting her ignorance about what’s happened in the courts regarding the ‘election steal’. No evidence has been presented that the election was stolen. Trump’s own administration called it the most secure election ever.

But, as we see we greater scrutiny, facts don’t get in the way of Trump support.

Later in the same article…

Another man said that he believed there was “corruption” on the City Council over the issue and that the city clerk, who has local authority over drop boxes, was not doing her job.

“I think it’s absolutely appalling what’s going on in our community,” he said.

He thinks…he believes…he doesn’t cite evidence.

What’s ‘absolutely appalling’ is how Trump has convinced these people to have faith in him and turned their brains into oatmeal. They don’t trust their friends and neighbors, nor their local elected officials. Certainly, they can’t trust Democrats!

And it’s all presented without any evidence.

And likewise, later in the article…

At a rally in Dodge County this month, Sheriff Dale J. Schmidt took the stage, turning to address Mr. Trump, who was campaigning there.

“I have something very important I think you’re going to want to hear,” Sheriff Schmidt said. “In Dodge County, in this 2024 election, there are zero drop boxes for the election.”

As the crowd erupted in cheers, Mr. Trump gave a double thumbs-up.

“We’re going to make sure that we have the best, most secure election in Dodge County history,” Sheriff Schmidt said.

(Sheriff Schmidt was wrong about the number of drop boxes; several municipalities in Dodge County have them, as the clerks pointed out last week.)

You see it yet again — lies and misinformation being offered as facts to a cheering crowd. What have these people done with their thinking? All of these examples show how Trump supporters swallow lies without giving it much thought.

Mind-fucking-boggling.

Imagine the cascade of insanity that will roll across the nation if Trump returns to the White House. Please, vote blue. Save us from the ignorance of Trump supporters.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

Back in the day…

Such a broad, specific expression. Back in the day for me is specific to a time period for me and others of my age, but when you’re a different age, well, back in the day is a different time.

Quick sidebar: while the youngest generations take up the expression, or will back in the day fade away?

Well, back in the day, it was easy to keep up on the news. Read a newspaper, turn on one of the big three network’s nightly news offering, and watch the local news.

Complications arose with the information age explosion and the digital age tsunami. Suddenly, I’m clicking on a story and there’s ten thousand variations on it. What was said, who said it, and what does it mean? You click and read and click, chasing the crumbs to learn what’s right.

Tough work these days, keeping up on truth and facts, and dodging lies and misinformation.

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Friday’s Political Thoughts

My wife and I ventured out of the house and down the street a mile to the Presbyterian Church. We’d signed up for the latest COVID vax shot being offered by Wellness 2000.

All went well with our paperwork and we joined the line for our turn. The woman ahead was wearing a pink ball cap. When she glanced back, I saw that it had “,la” on it. A Kamala supporter!

I began leaning forward to speak to her when my wife stepped up to the woman and said, “I love your hat.”

Nodding, I added, “I was about to say the same thing.”

The woman behind us said, “I was admiring it, too. That’s a great hat.”

The hat wearer replied, “Thank you. I suppose it depends on which side you’re on.”

The rest of us, joined by another woman, agreed. Then several of the women said, “You’re on the good side. We are, too.”

Vote blue in 2024.

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Thursday’s Wandering Thoughts

Coffee warms my throat as I watch fat dark gray clouds sailing across the sky. Sunlight clears the clouds, dramatically lighting their heights. Looks like fall, alright.

Many people live by the weather when it comes to the season. I’m one of those. My attire today are jeans. Long pants. Long sleeve shirt.

Wind, chill, and rain, and lack of sunshine pulled the decision to don jeans free of my brain cells. Much as anything, it’s that feel to the air, the color of the sky, and the mood it all presents as winds chase leaves down the street, that the seasonal change is really here.

So, I’m wearing jeans, looking back on the hot, smoky summer, shifting my gaze toward the future, to the coming winter, and what it might bring.

Much like my ancestors probably did. Without the jeans.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeegalvanized

It’s a stillish fall morning outside the windows. Rain’s been falling from darkly loaded clouds. They’ve overtaken the blue and sun today.

It’s Thursday, October 17, 2024. Chilly with that rain, the high will be 61 and the low will be 37 F. Freeze warnings are in effect for tomorrow morning’s early hours. On the bright side of matters, our air quality is excellent, just single digits.

Got a call this morning from the county emergency system. Today is the great shake-out. They wanted us to pretend an earthquake was underway and practice surviving it. I’ve been through a few smaller quakes so I easily imagined the shaking.

The situation provoked some pre-coffee thinking. When I was a child in Wilkinsburg, PA, I remember us doing a duck and cover under my desk, in case the commies launched their nukes. Then, in the military, we were always practicing surviving war and natural disasters. There were fake NBC attacks. Fake unexploded ordinance to deal with. And of course, nukes and EMP. What would happen if we lost our telecommunications; how would we survive? We practiced decoding messages which would send us to war, and other exercises to receive notification hostilities were over. My career’s final years saw me fighting simulated space wars. Throughout, I was engaged in war planning, getting ready to deploy equipment to some theater’s front lines, etc., and reporting on our efforts to get ready and be ready, briefing the general who was our commander five days a week at one assignment, and getting ready to brief him.

Naturally, here in southern Oregon, we stay ready for wildfires. We have checklists and go-bags for evacuation. I’m fairly prepared in that regard, as I wrote local plans, checklists, and guidance for evacuating bases for wherver I was, and trained others in executing that stuff.

Seems like a lot of my life has been about getting ready. I was getting ready to be an adult as a teen. Beyond getting ready for war and natural disasters during, I was constantly getting ready for flu season, to move to another assignment, and I was getting ready for retirement.

Now I’m getting ready for my foot surgery. Getting ready for Mom and Dad to pass. That could be my life motto: “Get ready.”

Of course, as I reflect on my needs to get ready as a child and adult, I think it’s better than the active shooter drills so many children now go through to get ready for the real deal. Their need is driven by people with guns walking into schools and committing mass murder. My need to get ready was much more abstract and distant.

I have a pre-op appointment for my foot surgery next Wednesday. It’s to get me ready for the surgery. Actual surgery takes place the following Wednesday. The pre-op appointment came out of the blue. No phone call or coordination about what time works best for me; just a sudden message through Mychart telling me that the appointment was made. Poor communication, to me, and sort of arrogant, and annoying. Like, hey, what if I was out of town that day? Fortunately, I’m not, but still…

Today’s music comes via Tom MacInnes’s website. I enjoy Tom’s posts about music history, along with his experiences as a teacher and a father, particularly his stories about reading with his daughter and his students. Yesterday’s post was “The Great Canadian Road Trip…Song #76/250: Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne”. I ended up with “Sk83r Boi” in my morning mental music stream (Trademark bopping). It’s a lively, energetic song, and completely free and clear of political nuances, so I latched onto that. I need a political break from scanning news on either side of the schism, and tales of polls, rumors, innuendoes, and courts. Just give me some simple teenage offering.

I’m pretty pleased with it as a song choice. The Neurons had been offering “The Monkey’s Uncle” from the Disney movie with the same title. I don’t know why the hell The Neurons chose that song. Never saw the movie, but I knew of its elements, and obviously that song and some of the other songs the movie offered. That was from an era of beach movies. I never dug ’em.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been introduced to my systems once again and I believe I have a pulse. Here’s the music. Get ready for the election.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Political Thoughts

The GOP’s outrageous lying has my spouse issuing full-throated growls.

Some claim that lying is part of the political process. While acknowledging that truth, what’s happening now seems different. The Trump led GOP spreads fictions as easily as others butter toast. It doesn’t matter how far their claims stray from facts, truth, or reality. No subject is sacrosanct. If it will win them a vote, they’ll lie about it, and then lie that they lied about it.

My wife offers a solution. President Joe Biden should use the Supreme Court’s newly forged presidential immunity and start having these people making outrageous claims arrested. She doesn’t know what the charges would be; she figures President Biden is president, so he’s immune, right?

Sure, that’s kind of what the Roberts Court said about presidential immunity, leaving it open to interpretation what goes over the line.

We conclude that under our constitutional structure of separated powers, the nature of Presidential power requires that a former President have some immunity from criminal prosecution for official acts during his tenure in office. At least with respect to the President’s exercise of his core constitutional powers, this immunity must be absolute. As for his remaining official actions, he is also entitled to immunity. At the current stage of proceedings in this case, however, we need not and do not decide whether that immunity must be absolute, or instead whether a presumptive immunity is sufficient.

My tack is different; I think doing as she suggests would undermine our democracy and weaponize the DOJ in ways that won’t shut down for many election cycles.

She’s willing to take that risk to keep Trump out of the White House. She’s willing to do so, she says, because she does not doubt that is what the Republicans would do.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Mood: wetandsane

It’s 54 F degrees. 61 is being looked at as the high. Rain and clouds give us a sloppy wet one in greeting. It’s Wednesday, the humpiest day of the week. October 16. We’re on the tenth month’s downside. November and the holidays beyond loom behind an uncertain gray veil, put there by the impending elections and the uncertainty sown by Trump.

Well, for some of us. Others are all, que sera, sera.

Had coffee duty this morning. Ordered two Starbucks Travelers and delivered them to the Family Y, where a surprise birthday party for a 95 year old friend was being put in place by her daughter. Used to be our neighbors across the street. Life and circumstances changed that. Now she lives in a cottage in her daughter’s backyard closer to downtown, about 1.5 miles away. This woman — the 95 yo — no longer drives so she walks around town or takes the bus. She’s vigorously involved in her church activities and other charity, and she exercises three mornings a week at the Y. My appreciation of her and admiration for her remains broad and deep.

I was asked to assist through my wife, natch. Her daughter reached out to my spouse, and my spouse reached out to me. No problem. I was due to deliver the coffee at 9:15 and entered at 9:16. My wife saw me and exclaimed, “You made it!” She made it sound like I’d finished the Oregon Trail.

Today’s music in fact comes from the latest Trump rally fiasco. No, not the one where he left people out there without rides back, without facilities, water, or food, as darkness came down. No, this is another one.

This is the one in Pennsylvania where a few of his attendees fainted. Instead of continuing the rally, Trump requested music.

Rather than continue after paramedics assisted the two people, Trump instructed his staff to just play music from a playlist he has personally curated and famously often turns on during dinners at Mar-a-Lago.

“Who the hell wants to hear questions?” Trump said at the event where the entire point was to take audience questions. “Right?”

What followed was more than 30 minutes of Trump swaying on stage and occasionally doing his well-known two-handed dance to some of his favorite tunes, chatting with the event’s host, South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem, and occasionally interacting with attendees who were seated behind the stage.

“This is the weirdest church service I have ever been to,” a first-time rallygoer who did not give their name told NBC News of the music portion of the event, which opened with “Ave Maria.” 

So rather than questions and answers about policy, as expected at a political rally, Trump delivered some dancing and music. And at least one attendee mused about it being a ‘church service’.

I mean, really, WTF is going on over there in MAGA land?

The music it inspired The Neurons to play in the morning mental music stream (Trademark blown) comes by way of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer. “Karn Evil 9” is all about the show. Guaranteed to blow your head apart. That’s how I feel ’bout many of the Trump shows. It’s a show with little substance. He gushs about himself and he insults others.

Off into the rain I go. Be strong and stay positive. Vote blue in 2024. Let’s keep sanity in the White House. Coffee and I have come together on a plan to jumpstart my heart.

Here’s the music. It’s a long one. Great drum solo. Cheers

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Today’s Wandering Thoughts

I found myself thinking about my parents as I dressed this morning. One is from Iowa and resides in Pennsylvania. The other is from Pennsylvania and lives in Texas. They divorced way back in the mid 1960s. Were friends or friendly off and on. Now Mom is bitter and angry about Dad; Dad is reflective about Mom.

I left their homes when I was 17. I’ve visited both as they moved around, remarried, and raised other families. As they’ve aged, Dad tells me he’d like to be closer to me. Mom tells me she’d like to hear from me more often because she worries about me.

But a large elephant marches through their desires. I’ve been married 49 years. Mom visited me once, when I bought her an airline ticket and forced it to happen. Dad visited me once in my first year of marriage, dropping by with my father-in-law for thirty minutes while they happened to be in the area. It just didn’t seem like they were deeply invested in being part of my life.

I don’t feel abandoned by them. Dad admits he wasn’t a good father and wasn’t there. Mom insists she was there as much as she could be. I do see their sides but I’m indifferent to Dad’s efforts for us to be closer or to Mom’s request for me to alleviate worries. I could employ simple sophistry and claim, they made me who I am, but really, I head little from them across my decades of living. Sure, they always sent birthday and holiday cards, but mostly there were months of silence. Yes, I know they each raised other children and went on through a few more marriages.

I get all of that. My feelings about them slice along a spectrum. I love them as they love me, from a distance. I know they made sacrifices on my behalf to ensure I had food and shelter security and a place to call home. But at an early age, as I watched their fights and listened to their arguments, I made a decision to be independent of them. Sure, there are days when I surf the spectrum of our relationships when I want to help them out of guilt or empathy. They become less as I move through my life, age, and deal with my own issues.

My parents both have been supportive in many ways. They tell me they’re proud of me. My wife points out that it all would’ve probably been different if she and I had children.

But we didn’t, and this is where my parents and I stand, like many other parents and their offspring, at a complex crossroads which we never leave.

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Tuesday’s Political Thoughts

There’s a gruff guy whose house I regularly pass. About my age, he sometimes nods but never speaks as he works on his yard, house, or car. If he was a novel stereotype, he’d be a bitter former Marine who saw combat and carries wounds. Just from the way he eyed me as I passed by on my walks, I guessed he was a Trump supporter or leaned that way.

I always remind myself that I can’t judge people by how they look. Appearances deceive. Someone glancing at me, with my American flag pin on my ever-present hat, might think of me as a Trump supporter. Sad that in our polarized age, waving the flag has become associated with our political system’s right wing.

Yesterday, a Harris-Walz sign appeared in his yard. He was doing something over by his outdoor spigot and glanced up. Walking by, I nodded hello, and then added, “I like your sign. I hope Harris wins.”

He replied, “So do I. I’ve donated money to her, and I’ll keep donating to keep that orange asshole out of the White House.”

Go Harris. Vote blue.

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