Christmas Past

            We can all remember how Christmas was celebrated when we were kids. For most of us it probably revolved around family.

            I remember my father’s family coming from Lowell to spend Christmas Day with us. I still can’t imagine how Grandpa and Grandma Milot, Uncle Nap, Uncle Emile, Uncle George, and Aunt Laura all fit into one car for the 56-mile trip to Manville, our Rhode Island home. But they came, bringing presents for my brothers, my sister, and me.

            One year, Uncle Nap brought a box with a dozen chicks in it, all of them peeping away at the prospect, I suppose, of finding a new home. We kept those little yellow balls of fluff warm in their box between the legs of Mom’s kitchen stove until they began sprouting brown feathers. We knew then it was time to move them to a corner room upstairs in the barn, a rather fancy home with windows on two sides and shelves for them to roost. And later to lay eggs for us kids to fetch every morning.

            Uncle George, rotund but not very tall, was a perfect Santa. When no one was looking, he’d change into his costume and make a boisterous entrance, to the delight of us kids. Until the day we began to wonder why Uncle George was never present when Santa appeared.

            Then it was time to open our presents. Mom always had me give Dad a new container of shaving soap for him to brush on his face every morning while we watched. Some of those years after the war were rather lean, but finances got better after Dad found a new job in Providence. I can remember three special Christmas presents: a little red wagon, an erector set, and an American Flyer model train set. I wasn’t allowed to touch the train set until Dad and Uncle George had laid out the tracks, hooked up the transformer, and tested the cars to make sure everything was working right.

            The main course for Christmas dinner was always a turkey big enough to feed the whole gang. And there was always leftover “tourtière,” traditional Canadian-style pork pie consumed after midnight mass. I don’t remember anyone returning to Lowell on an empty stomach.

            The little red wagon is long gone, the erector set sold before a move, and the train set bequeathed to my baby brother André. But they remain fixed in my memory as icons of Christmas past, symbols of joyous days that brought family together to give, to receive, and to share.

            The relatives in that carful from Lowell are all ghosts now. I’m sure they are smiling at us as we cherish the traditions and values they once passed on to us.

            Merry Christmas to families everywhere.

Random Thoughts

            

             Imagine going to your family physician for your annual physical only to find out that you have cancer and need to see a specialist right away. Imagine further that neither you nor your doctor can find an oncologist who will see you in less than two weeks. With your life hanging in the balance, how would that make you feel? You would probably scream that this is unacceptable. Well, if you lived in Great Britain you would be among the many of patients who fall into this category. Why? Because there aren’t enough oncologists to meet the demand. This is only one example of what happens when medical services are controlled by the government. In Britain it’s called National Health Service. In the United States it would be called Medicare for All—if Democrats like Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders have their way.

            An old Belgian Philosophy professor of mine threw out a statement and challenged his students to prove him wrong. The statement was “Pas de pensées sans paroles.” Literally, it means no thoughts without words. Specifically, a language with words is necessary for thinking. Hmm. Are animals capable of thinking? They certainly have feelings: a dog wags his tail when he’s happy, he growls when he’s angry, he tucks his tail between his legs when he’s afraid. But do feelings qualify as thoughts? Animals are capable of communicating with each other; they have their own languages. They are capable of teaching and learning, too. And some animals seem to be able to plan in concert with each other and form societies governed by rules. But the languages animals use to communicate with each other do not have words, because words are abstract, representative. Even the large vocabulary of signs learned by some chimpanzees are not words: they are linked to actions, but not to thoughts. Only humans can formulate thoughts; only humans can reason in the abstract. And words are necessary for that. Come to think of it, my old professor was right.

            What good is having the perfect Constitution if no one follows it? Good laws don’t matter if the persons enforcing them are corrupt. What is the meaning of the right of free speech when conservatives are shouted down and prevented from speaking at our universities? How is the right to bear arms not abridged by a governor who is so intent on seizing the guns of his state’s citizens that they have no other recourse than to declare their towns Second Amendment Sanctuaries?

           

The Giving Season

            We all have our faults. Goodness knows I have my share. Even my lovely wife has some. Well, at least one: she’s a hoarder. She just finds it near impossible to get rid of stuff. Our attic, closets, storage cabinets, and our spare room are full of old, obsolete, and useless things. So, it has become a sort of ritual when my daughter Danielle visits from Tucson that something is going to get cleaned out.

            This year Danielle attacked her mother’s closet, which was bulging with clothes that had not been worn since we moved to North Carolina 16 years ago. “Mom, you don’t need all the winter clothing you wore in Michigan. And you can’t possibly wear clothes you wore when you were a size 6.” Ignoring the loud and painful protests from her mother, Danielle created a four-foot pile of blouses, slacks, sweaters, and coats on the bed. The culling complete, I was ordered to take the huge inventory to the Salvation Army in Elizabeth City.

            Over the years we have rung the bell at the Salvation Army’s back door to drop off things we didn’t need anymore: tools, small appliances, household items, books, even a couple of bicycles, knowing somebody would make good use of them. To our minds, the Salvation Army is one of the finest charitable organizations on the planet.

            The Salvation Army accepts donations of all kinds, and that includes money. Hertford’s Albemarle Plantation has a fine Christmas tradition in which residents do not send Christmas cards to each other, but instead place a single card on the Clubhouse Christmas tree with a donation to the Salvation Army.

            And then we have the Salvation Army’s volunteer bell ringers and their Christmas Kettle Drive. But spare change is not enough. The organization relies on corporate donors a well. It came as a surprise, then, to learn that Chick-fil-A has decided to discontinue donations to the Salvation Army in response to pressure from LGBTQ activists who claim that the organization discriminates against them. This is a baseless and vile calumny that masks the LGBTQ community’s antipathy for Christian charities, because Christian tradition opposes same sex marriage. The fact is that the Salvation Army serves the poor, irrespective of their sexual orientation.

            To add insult to injury, Chick-fil-A has made a donation to the Southern Poverty Law Center, an extreme leftist organization that consistently spews hatred for conservatives and Christians. The reaction has been swift: Chick-fil-A is getting an earful from its customers, especially Evangelicals who were the first to show support for the popular restaurant when the left called for a boycott. These same customers now feel betrayed.

            Christians may oppose same sex marriage, but they do not hate gay people. The problem is with anti-religious activists who cannot tolerate religious believers and seek to destroy them because they don’t agree with their agenda.

            I think it’s time for Danielle to come visit us again.

           

           

           

Chicago Blues

            Back in the days when I worked for a living I often went to Chicago on business. To relax after a long day, I loved going to a piano bar on Division Street to enjoy the jazz piano of a black artist–let’s call him Johnny–who wore a derby and a perpetual smile as he entertained appreciative listeners like me.

            One evening an elegantly dressed black woman came in and drew up a chair next to the piano so she could look directly at Johnny while he played. That’s when I noticed a change in Johnny. Instead of his customary bouncy, rapid style, his play had become more lilting and lyrical. And the smile was gone. I got off my bar stool and pulled up a chair next to the lady and said, “He’s making love to you, isn’t he?” She turned to me and replied, “Yes, he is.”

            That got us off to a discussion about jazz, long my favorite kind of music. After a while, the lady said, “You know, the best jazz is not played around here (the North Side). It’s played in South Chicago. If you like, I can take you there. But you can’t go there by yourself.” I appreciated the concern for my safety, but I declined. I’ve often wondered what kind of experience that would have been.

            I’m very sad about what’s happening to one of my favorite cities. It’s not just the murders on the South Side, but the little signs that the city and the State of Illinois are on a steep decline.

            I read recently that the infamous Jessie Smolett is suing Chicago for malicious prosecution, because authorities are taking a second look at his case. This is the same Jessie Smolett who staged a sensational homophobic crime to promote his career and escaped with only a slap on the wrist.

            Chicago police superintendent Eddie T. Johnson actually brought crime down in the city after hiring 1,000 new officers and switching to hi-tech policing. The Chicago mayor fired him when he lied about why he was found asleep in his police car in the wee hours of the morning.

            On September 24^th FBI agents raided State Senator Martin Sandoval’s Chicago office and home searching for evidence related to concrete and construction businesses, bribery, and theft of federal funds. On September 27^th Sandoval resigned.

            I read that in an Illinois school, children as young as five can be locked up in a separate room for “isolated time-out.”  And that’s not only for making threats, but for just about any reason, like spilling milk, swearing, or throwing legos. Let’s enforce discipline in high schools rampant with drugs and violence against teachers, but a five-year old serving time in solitary confinement for spilling his milk?

            I’m not likely to revisit Chicago anytime soon. Maybe it’s just as well. I’ll stick to my memory of a piano bar on Division Street and a lady who liked jazz.

Random Numbers

            Numbers are meant to grab your attention. Here are a few that grabbed mine.

            With 20% of its population over 70 years of age and a life expectancy of 87 years for women and 81 for men, Japan has a big problem: there aren’t enough young workers to sustain the country’s welfare and health services. To make things worse, the current birth rate in Japan is 1.43 births for women between the ages of 15 and 44, when a rate of 2.1 is needed to maintain a stable population. This has resulted in 2018 in the biggest population decline on record.

            In the U.S. the fertility rate is 1.729. Yet, the population is growing. The difference? We welcome immigrants, while Japan traditionally has opposed immigration. Japan’s leaders now realize this must change. But it may be too late to avoid a financial collapse.        

            The U.S. has a different problem: our national debt, which has now topped $23 trillion. And it’s getting worse. The problem is that Washington doesn’t seem to care. President Trump and Congress agree to budgets or continuing resolutions that add over $1 trillion to the debt each year, while aspiring presidential contenders like Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders advance vote-buying proposals for free stuff that would cost many trillions more without any conceivable way of paying for them. We’ve enjoyed low interest rates and low inflation for a long time. What happens when that trend is reversed and we face interest on our debt that exceeds our gross national product?       

            The biggest mistake Harry Reid made while Senate Majority Leader was to eliminate the filibuster in the appointment of federal judges. In his three years in office, President Trump has successfully appointed 48 circuit court appellate judges, and 122 district court trial judges, a record that far surpasses that of his predecessors for the same period. As federal judges serve for life, this is bound to have a long-lasting effect on our nation’s judiciary. Thanks, Harry.      

            According to analysts with the Heritage Foundation, tax increases and reductions in private spending for health insurance and medical care required to pay for Medicare for All would result in an average reduction $5,670 in a family’s annual disposable income. It would be worse for households getting employer-paid health benefits: their annual disposable income would drop by an average of $10,554. Are you paying attention, Elizabeth?      

            A recent survey shows that the number of Americans who say they do not follow any religion has grown from 16% to 35% in the last ten years. For people aged 18 to 29 that no-religion number is now 44%. Often cited by dropouts is their opposition to inflexible religious teachings on sexuality and social issues; they would encourage churches to have conversations with people who have different experiences and points of view, rather than to require passive adherence to a fixed set of authoritative positions. Open Door USA reports in its World Watch List 2019 that 4,135 Christians were killed for their faith last year in places like Nigeria, Syria, Iran, and North Korea. I doubt these martyrs were looking for a conversation on social issues when they faced death.

On Ears

            I find ears fascinating.  They come in all sizes and shapes.  Elephants have huge ones, hounds floppy ones, birds tiny ones.  Even humans sport an interesting variety.  Some have long lobes, others none at all.  Some people have ears that stick out (like a taxi with its doors open, as the saying goes).  I’ve even known a man who could flap either one at will.  And then there’s the question we seniors all ask ourselves: why do our ears grow bigger as we age, while our other body parts shrink?

            I read somewhere that in colonial times some criminals had their ears nailed to a post as punishment.  I leave it to the reader to imagine how they freed themselves from such a predicament.  Think Van Gogh.

            Ear piercings have been around a long time.  Otzi the Iceman, who lived 5,000 years ago, had pierced ears.  So did Egyptian mummies.  And just about every civilization has pierced ears for decorative purposes.  Ours is no exception.  Claire’s, an ear-piercing service, holds the Guiness Book of Records for having pierced 85 million ears. That’s a lot of punctures.

            It used to be that women only pierced earlobes, but now they can go for the rook, helix, tragus, conch, daith, and auricle (we all know what they are, right?), as well as elaborate combinations.  Creativity is all the rage.

            Traditionally, and with rare exceptions like pirates, only women in this country wore earrings.  Until now.  Grown men as well as boys now sport studs and rings.  Some even try to outdo each other with gauging, the placing of ever-larger “gauges” in the ear lobe.  One of my grandsons tried gauging.  I’m glad he stopped before the point-of-no return, where the holes become permanent and disfiguring.

            For me, ears are meant to be functional, not decorative.  Unfortunately, my right ear has pretty much ceased to function as designed.  My wife insists I should go for a hearing aid, but I refuse.  There’s a certain advantage to being deaf in one ear.  I can “turn a deaf ear” to criticism, pretend I didn’t hear a question I prefer not to answer, or plead ignorance of requests to do something I’d rather not do. 

            Fortunately, my wife, who sits in the shotgun seat when I drive, has learned to scream quite audibly when I’m about to run a red light or cross in front of oncoming traffic.  Thank goodness I still have one good ear.

Presidential Abuse

          It is becoming increasingly clear that President Trump will be impeached. Irrespective of its merits, the president’s impeachment will most certainly divide this nation even further. Hard-core adherents on the left and right will not change their votes, but serious-minded independents will be forced to take sides when the 2020 elections come around. No matter who is their nominee, Democrats will not persuade the electorate on a platform of destructive leftist policies or promises of a better economy (Trump has already won this argument). Democrats will have no choice but to put all their chips on a single number at the political roulette table: the fitness of Donald Trump to serve another term. The odds are not great, but they are getting better all the time. If Donald Trump continues launching insults at every real and imagined opponent, a majority of Americans may very well decide they’ve had enough of his abusive behavior.

            A case in point is Trump’s treatment of career diplomats. A president needs ambassadors who will implement his policies abroad and he has the perfect right to replace them when they don’t. When the president got word that Ambassador to Ukraine Marie Yovanovitch did not agree with his attempt to force Ukraine to investigate corruption involving the Bidens, he removed her. That was his right. But when she testified at the impeachment hearings on this point, Trump did not even wait until the end of her testimony to vilify her. His tweet was nasty, mean, and profoundly disrespectful of a woman with a distinguished and selfless career in some of the most remote outposts in the world. Kyrgystan, anyone?

          Self-confidence is an essential quality in a president. But so is a modicum of humility. To be effective, a president must rely on his experience and judgment to make sound decisions; but, a president must also recognize that he is not infallible or omniscient, and that he must rely on the advice of others who may not always agree with him. From what we’ve witnessed in the White House’s revolving door, the president is seriously lacking in this respect. Tillerson, Mattis, Kelly, and Bolton are just four superbly qualified people no longer advising Trump because he lacked the humility to accept their sometimes contrary opinions. Even in the face of near-universal disagreement, as in the case of his abandonment of the Kurds in northern Syria, President Trump cannot accept even the possibility that he could have been wrong.

            With his record of accomplishment, Donald Trump should be a shoo-in next November. But if he persists in his intemperate behavior, he will make many of those independent voters ask themselves if it’s time for a president with a bit less hubris and a bit more humility. Even, heaven help us, a Democrat.

On Shopping

            Thanksgiving will soon be a warm memory giving way to the frenzy of Black Friday, the official start of the Christmas shopping season. But not for me.

            I hate shopping.  I’m the kind of guy who goes into a store, finds what he wants and buys it, all in the least amount of time. Not my wife. For her, shopping is an adventure, an avocation, a pleasure-filled investigation of all the possibilities a well-stocked store has to offer. Time is irrelevant. Inspect, touch, compare, check the price, check the tag, move on, return for a second look. That and more goes into my wife’s shopping ritual. 

            If shopping were a religion, my wife would be its High Priestess. There are commandments to be obeyed, like never take the bottle of milk in front, only the one behind it. Buy a product made in China only as a last resort and an absolute necessity. Keep the little bag of coupons with you at all times…you never know. Don’t pass by the book section without checking to see what’s new. Stop and pay your respects to the clearance rack. Drive that extra ten miles for a nickel off a gallon. Never pay full price if you can help it. And don’t ever come home with only the things on your shopping list.

            My wife is well aware of my aversion to shopping. She never asks me to follow along.  “Stay in the car. I’ll be right out.” Uh, huh.  Or, “Sit over there and wait for me.” That’s when I get to meet other husbands on the same bench who have never quite understood why patience has evolved into a uniquely male virtue. 

            On occasion, though, I get the benefit of my wife’s shopping idiosyncrasies.   Take greeting cards, for instance.  Sometime I think my wife single-handedly keeps greeting card companies in business.  Every birthday, every anniversary, every special occasion.  Kids, grandkids, relatives near and far, good friends, they all get a card.  Don’t even mention Christmas.  And not just any card. The selection must be the result of an exhaustive search for just the right sentiment.  But I must say that my wife saves the best ones for me.

            On my last birthday, my wife’s card said, “Every time I look at you, I know I chose the best man in the entire world to spend all the days of my life with.” Now, that wasn’t just any card. I don’t know how long it took her to find this one, but the words hit me; they were perfect (even if this stodgy grammarian noticed the preposition at the end of the sentence). Me. The guy who forgets to do the dishes.  The guy who picks on her for buying too many vitamin pills. The guy who yells at her for tailgating. The guy who is not as affectionate as he should be.  

            Why me?  Lucky me.

A Vote for Nikki Haley

            A year ago, I was in Georgia visiting my sister Louise and her husband Dick, a conservative like me who also takes a great interest in national politics. We happened to be talking about the future of the Republican Party when I asked Dick to write down the name of the one person he would choose to lead the party in the next presidential election should Donald Trump choose not to run. I did the same. And when we compared notes, we saw that we had written the same name: Nikki Haley. And that was months after she had stepped down from the national stage. It may well be her time to return to it.

            Nikki Haley served three terms in South Carolina’s legislature, followed by two very successful terms as the state’s governor. When Donald Trump was elected President, he chose her to be his first Ambassador to the United Nations. She represented our country in that post for two years and did a superb job as an advocate for Trump’s international policies, especially as a staunch defender of Israel. That’s a pretty good resume.

            She also has a very good personal profile. She is married and the mother of a boy and a girl—the ideal family, some would say. As the daughter of Indian immigrants, she says of herself that she is not white enough to be white nor black enough to be black, a sort of a claim of immunity to charges of racism from either side.

            So, how does a woman with such impeccable Republican credentials make her re-entry onto the national stage? She writes a book. Before it even hit the bookstores, “With All Due Respect” catapulted her onto the front pages of the national media whose pundits on the left lost no time in attacking her. Her crime? Loyalty to the president. It seems that when Secretary of State Rex Tillerson and Chief of Staff John Kelley had tried to recruit her in opposing some of the president’s policies, she refused.

            We don’t know how this soap opera will play out. Some are already saying Haley is positioning herself for a presidential run in 2024, or perhaps as a replacement for Mike Pence as Trump’s running mate in 2020. Whatever the outcome, my brother-in-law and I will be proven to have been incredibly prescient or in need of a new crystal ball.

           

           

Big Money

            World Series MVP Stephen Strasburg finally rewarded the Washington Nationals for their faith in picking him first in the 2009 draft and sticking with him through one injury after another for ten years. They even gave him a contract that would have paid him $25 million a year for the next four years. Not good enough for Mr. Strasburg: he is opting out of his contract in favor of free agency that will bring him even greater riches. So much for loyalty.

            Strasburg’s greed is not unusual in big-time sports where the mantra seems to be “Get it while you can.” Even college athletes are on the verge of cashing in, as their amateur status is sacrificed to Mammon.

            Sports do not provide the only arenas for amassing great wealth. There are 2,754 billionaires in the world at last count. Silicon Valley seems to be sprouting them faster than asparagus. And so does Wall Street.

            What do billionaires do with all their money? Bill Gates chooses to fund many charitable causes through his foundation. But hedge-fund founder Ken Griffin opted to spend $238 million of his money on a Manhattan penthouse. Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg plunked down $130 million for his family sanctuary on 700 acres of beachfront property in Kawaii. But he is not alone in his lust for property: there have been 20 residential properties in the United States that have each sold for over $100 million. Just how big of a house do billionaires need?

            Elizabeth Warren must have asked herself this question when she proposed to tax the excess wealth of billionaires to fund her multiple plans for free stuff. Of course, even if she managed to confiscate all American billionaires’ money, it wouldn’t pay for half of the $20.5 trillion needed to cover just the cost of her public health plan, aka Medicare for All.

            The senator from Massachusetts wants to be President of the United States. As a practiced liar she knows she can’t win by telling the truth, so she is relying on the gullibility and ignorance of mostly young voters who swallow her promises of free stuff. After all, she has a plan to get all those billionaires to finally pay their fair share.

            Mr. Strasburg, don’t count your money just yet.

           

On California Fires

            It is impossible to ignore the images of homes ablaze in all those horrendous California fires.  We are now looking at vast swaths of California real estate that have become virtually uninhabitable—why would you want to build a house in one of those fire-prone areas? Chances are you wouldn’t be able to buy fire insurance. Insurers have had to pay out so many claims in the last couple of years that they no longer write new policies in those areas; in fact, many are cancelling existing policies. Not a good job market for insurance agents. Or real estate agents for that matter.

            What is responsible for all those fires anyway? There has been a lot of finger-pointing going on California. It’s climate change, say radical environmentalists, because it is responsible for the high winds and severe droughts. But don’t environmentalists themselves bear some responsibility for California’s failed forest management strategies regarding such matters as fire breaks and clearing of underbrush? When high winds cause a tree to fall on a power line and start a fire, shouldn’t we be asking why a tree was growing so close to the power line in the first place?

Religious Bigotry

            Do Democrats hate Christians?  It is becoming increasingly apparent that they do.  How foolish.  Do they really believe that alienating Christians will persuade the electorate to vote Democratic?  Yet, evidence keeps mounting that they harbor a deep resentment if not outright hatred for people who prefer to live their lives according to Christian precepts.

            The latest assault was by presidential candidate Beto O’Rourke who would deny tax exemptions to any religious institution that opposes gay marriage.  He’s not alone.  Elizabeth Warren has said that Christians who believe in the biblical definition of marriage are hateful.  Similar comments have been uttered by Pete Buttigieg and Cory Booker. 

            They are not the first, only the more prominent ones, because their presidential aspirations have put their anti-religious bigotry on display. 

            What’s at stake here is not just the selection of the next president.  It is the fate of our country as a God-fearing nation.  If the left has its way, we will be ruled by militant secularists who would have Christians violate their religious principles. 

            We’ve already seen it: banning bibles and Christmas carols at VA hospitals; lawsuits against religious displays on public squares; forcing schools to adopt an LGBT curriculum while preventing parents from excusing their children from such instruction; boycotting Chick-fil-A; forcing Sisters of the Poor to buy insurance coverage for contraceptives and abortion-inducing drugs; suing vendors who refuse to provide services for gay weddings; abortion rights up to and even beyond live birth. And so on.

            As Attorney General William Barr so aptly put it recently, “This is organized destruction.  Secularists and their allies have marshalled all the forces of mass communication, popular culture, the entertainment industry and academia, in an unremitting assault on religion and traditional values.”

            The Democratic presidential debates are making it increasingly clear that voters at all levels of government will have to choose between religious freedom and individual morality on one side, and on the other a new secular morality imposed by socialists and others on the left who do not believe we are capable of governing ourselves.

Trumpian Calculations

            The word “calculating” has two very different meanings. The primary one has to do with computations, like in mathematics. The second one is much different; it means shrewd and crafty, or worse, coldly scheming or conniving. I haven’t seen the second meaning applied to President Trump’s decision on pulling troops out of Syria, but I think it fits him perfectly.

            The president’s announcement appeared to be impetuous, a snap decision justified by his desire to “bring our boys home.” It was nothing of the kind. It was calculated to appease Turkey’s president, Tayyip Erdogan. Turkey is a member of NATO and long an ally of ours. But lately Erdogan has been playing footsies with Vladimir Putin and makes clear that Turkey’s ties with Russia will strengthen if we don’t give him what he wants. That would put our strategic air base in Incirlik in jeopardy, and Trump doesn’t want to lose Incirlik’s missiles. Not on his watch.

            So, what is the price of Erdogan’ extortion? Freedom to attack and destroy the Kurds in their Syrian stronghold bordering Turkey. Why couldn’t he have just done it anyway? Well, there were 50 to 100 Americans in the way, and Erdogan could not risk retaliation from the U.S. for accidentally blasting those Americans with his tanks. Until Trump pulled them out, that is. As we see in the news, the Kurds are now being massacred.

            The Kurds have been our allies. The ISIS caliphate could not have been destroyed without them. But for Trump the extinction of the Kurds is a small price to pay to keep Turkey on our side. After all, he says, the Kurds didn’t help us in World War II. Or in Normandy. What ignorant nonsense.

            Trump’s craven decision has been met with condemnation by members of his own party. He richly deserves it. Add “craven” to the definition of calculating. It means cowardly.

Kill All the Lawyers

            “The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.” This famous line in Shakespeare’s Henry VI has often been put forward by critics of the legal profession as the solution to everything that ails the world from the threat of nuclear annihilation to hangnails.

            Critics have a point. When we witness what’s going on in Washington these days, where there is an infestation of lawyers pacing the halls of Congress, we are justified in wondering if we would be better off without them.

            Lawyers invade the airways, as well. Who is not disgusted with ads from legal vultures who feed on the misery of victims?  Their false commiseration is nothing but a ploy to enrich themselves on the carrion of pain and suffering.

            Then there are the lawyers whose expertise is in crafting the actual laws that govern us. Their language is called legalese. Its purpose is to bury the essence of a law in verbiage so lengthy and obtuse that only other lawyers, paid unconscionable hourly fees, can decipher. For example, The Affordable Care Act, a.k.a. Obamacare, is 2,300 pages long (a pile about two feet high), not including 20,000 additional pages of regulations. Are we surprised at the mess it created?

            Closer to home I was impressed the other day by an offer to switch to DirecTV as my supplier of television service. The offer sounded too good, so I insisted on seeing it in writing. Within minutes I received the quoted prices and something called DirectTV Residential Customer Agreement. Talk about legalese. The agreement spelled out the company’s and my contractual obligations in page after page written in language that I could not possibly have understood without the aid of legal assistance. I counted the lines of type. I could be off by one or two because my eyes were bleary by the time I got to the end. The number of lines: 788. That’s not a typo. Yes, 788 lines of splendid legalese.

            I did not take the offer.

An Act of War

            “This was an act of war.” When words such a these are uttered by a world leader, as U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo did after Iran bombed Saudi Arabia’s oil facilities, the game is changed. It is no longer time for diplomacy and negotiations: acts of war demand a stronger response. Inaction can only be seen as weakness. Or worse.

            President Trump was quick to tweet that we are “locked and loaded.” This threat of retaliation was not, however, followed by an appropriate response. Instead, we were told of increased sanctions on Iran, as if past sanctions have ever had the desired effect on a regime bent on our destruction. Then the president proposed a coalition at the United Nations. But when has the UN ever presented a united front on any matter that could be seen as support for Israel against its enemies. In fact, Japan and France are already refusing to recognize that Iran was behind the attack, even in the face of incontrovertible evidence that it was.

            So, where does this leave us? What did Kim Jong-un do after he assured Trump he would dismantle his nuclear program? He started testing again. Has Trump invoked the Monroe Doctrine and booted the Russians and Chinese out of Venezuela? No, Maduro and his Cuban bosses are still in charge. But Iran is much worse. When Iran captured a naval vessel of ours and humiliated its crew for all the world to see, Trump did nothing. When Iran shot down one of our drones, Trump did nothing. And now with Saudi oil facilities ablaze what does Trump do?

            What will it take for President Trump to start acting as the leader of the most powerful country on earth? He can’t talk his way out of this one and he can’t do a deal with Iran. He must act from strength. He must strike back decisively. Or slink away like a weakling. Like a coward.

            Prove me wrong, Mr. President. Please.

Trump's Worst Enemy

            The Republican Party can breathe easier now that North Carolina’s 3^rd and 9th congressional districts are seating Republicans—at least until the 2020 elections.

            Greg Murphy coasted to a comparatively easy victory in our 3^rd district, which has voted Republican reliably for many years. But Dan Bishop’s win was a close one; next year he may not enjoy another bump from President Trump who rallied the troops on the eve of last week’s election. The GOP has every reason to worry, considering Trump’s fall in his North Carolina favorability ratings from 52% to 47%.

            The president can take credit for a robust economy resulting from his business-friendly tax cuts and deregulation. That one factor alone should guarantee his re-election. But Donald Trump’s falling popularity outside of his base indicates that he has not been able to overcome his worst enemy: Donald Trump.

            The three leaders among Democrat candidates to replace him in the White House are a doddering old man and two radical socialists. In ordinary times an incumbent president with a solid economy behind him should be able to flick off those three challengers like dandruff off his lapel. Yet, all three lead him in head-to-head polls. Why? The same reason Republicans lost the House in 2018: more and more Americans are growing tired of a shallow, ignorant leader whose giant ego prevents him from taking advice from associates who often have a far better grasp of the issues than he does. Rather than listen to them, he dismisses them.

            John Bolton is the latest victim of the president’s vainglorious belief in his own superiority. As a pugnacious National Security Advisor, Bolton had his detractors in Washington, but the five countries cheering loudest at his demise are China, Russia, North Korea, Iran, and Venezuela. Think about that.

The Mill

            I grew up in Manville, Rhode Island, a village on the Blackstone River, four miles south of Woonsocket.

            The Blackstone has been called the hardest-working river in the United States. It is not long, flowing a mere 48 miles from its source near Worcester, Massachusetts, to Pawtucket, Rhode Island, where it empties into Narragansett Bay. But In those 48 miles the river drops 1,300 feet, supplying waterpower for 200 years to a string of mills along the way. One of those mills was in Manville. I say “was,” because a complex of retirement homes now covers the area where the mill once stood.

            The Manville mill has a long history. At its apex in the early decades of the 20^th century it was the largest textile mill in all of New England, with over 100,00 spindles, 4,200 looms, and as many as 3,200 workers. Then the Depression hit, reducing production by 50%. In 1932 employment dropped to 400. But fortunes were soon to change. When World War II produced a great demand for cotton cloth, it turned Manville into a boom town. Some 2,500 mill employees worked three shifts, 24 hours a day, to satisfy the demand. Sadly, the good times did not last.

            The post-war period saw many of the Blackstone Valley textile mills move south where labor was plentiful and cheap. The Manville plant was no exception. Unable to restore the mill’s glory days, the owners closed its doors in 1948. From then on, the mill would be used as a storehouse by various companies. But that was not the end: it would come less than a decade later with a disaster seared in my memory.

            The month of August in 1955 had been hot and dry, and people were hoping for a little rain to break the spell. On August 18^th they got a lot more than hoped for. A dying Hurricane Diane passed over the area and deposited a record 9.5 inches on Woonsocket. Some surrounding areas got as much as 11 inches.  Cold Spring Park where I had played Pony League baseball was under water. Several streets were washed out. Flood waters threatened industrial properties all along the river. One man was electrocuted when he tried to remove a live power line from his son’s car. Then it got worse.

            The dam at Horseshoe Falls above Woonsocket broke. The local newspaper described water five feet deep pouring down city streets, carrying away a television set, a couch, an empty showcase, a mannequin; cars from dealerships on their sides, upside down, on top of each other; mud all over everything. 

            Towns downriver fared no better, especially the mills in places like Albion and Ashton where my mother had worked in 1943. Raging waters ripped the steel bridge in Berkeley from its moorings; debris piled up against other bridges; spectators gathered above to watch the tumbling waters.

            I went down to the Manville bridge to see for myself. The river was so high I couldn’t tell where the 18-foot dam was. The water barely passed under the bridge, which had been 30 feet above the river before the flood. I saw a refrigerator float by. Others said they had seen coffins. That may very well have been true, because when the Horseshoe Dam broke, the rushing waters carved a huge swath out of the cemetery below. Dozens of caskets went for a ride through Woonsocket streets looking for a new final resting place.

            Spectators came from all over to view the worst destruction of all. Standing on the bridge, they witnessed the mill’s weave shed, which had straddled the Blackstone for more than a century, topple into the boiling, flood-swollen river. With it went the five-story brick tower jutting from the west side of the mill. Then a huge section of the main building, undermined by the torrent below, fell into the river. A wall collapsed, taking with it a section of flooring and the roof above. It wasn’t long before thousands of cartons, which had been perched precariously on the edge of exposed floors, began to plunge into the cascading surf.

            The demons of destruction weren’t finished. Less than a month later the mill burned to the ground. People came from all over to see it; so many, in fact, that their cars blocked some roads needed by fire equipment to reach the blaze.

            The Manville fire was the largest fire in Rhode Island history. People who looked down from Woonsocket saw a huge cloud of smoke; some thought it looked like an atomic bomb had been dropped. The smoke could be seen from Providence, 20 miles away.

            Authorities could not agree on how the fire started.  A friend and former classmate of mine claimed to have the definitive version. He told me that that sparks from acetylene torches used by welders working on the roof during repair operations had fallen through the roof and ignited rubble on the floor below. The flood had destroyed the water lines that fed the sprinkler system, and by the time fire engines showed up, the fire was out of control, fed by exploding barrels of chemicals, walls with who-knows-how-many coats of paint, plus 800,000 square feet of wooden floors impregnated with a century’s worth of oil drippings from hundreds of textile machines.

            Within minutes the blaze was so hot it destroyed a nearby crane. Fire companies concentrated on wetting down buildings across the river. Fortunately, winds carried the fire downriver, and the village was spared. Five hours after the fire started there was nothing left to burn.

            A large flock of pigeons circled the remains for hours. They had roosted in the mill towers and now had no place to land. The same could symbolically be said for the many hundreds of villagers who had earned their living in the mill before a flood and a fire had reduced 200 years of history to a pile of smoking rubble.

           

Opioids and Leeches

            Overdose deaths from opioids have totaled over 70,000 in each of the last three years. Compare that to 40,000 a year from highway fatalities and a 10-year total of 58,000 G.I. fatalities in the Vietnam war.

            This is obviously a serious problem. An epidemic. But I’m not sure that what’s being done about it is the right solution. The latest news has states and municipalities suing pharmaceuticals as the source of the problem. In Oklahoma, Johnson & Johnson has been ordered to pay a fine of $572 million for its role in manufacturing and promoting opioids, even though theirs are only 1% of the market. Purdue Pharma, maker of OxyContin, has agreed to settle suits in Ohio for $12 billion, and to file for bankruptcy as a result, thus ending the company’s R&D, not to mention the livelihoods of thousands of its employees.

            In both cases the legal basis for bringing these suits was not product liability, but the public nuisance of promotional advertising. In other words, the products involved are good, but their benefits exaggerated and addictive nature minimized. But is that the whole picture? Where is the responsibility of the doctors who over-prescribe opioids? Where is the responsibility of death merchants in the illegal drug market?  And where is the responsibility of the individual drug abusers themselves? Are drug manufacturers being disproportionately targeted because of their deep pockets?

            The answer to that question points to another epidemic, the insatiable greed of tort lawyers, especially the ones who rake in millions in class-action suits. These leeches who feed on the misery of victims have made the United States the most litigious country in the world. The villains can be any number of drugs with potential side effects (Abilify, Prolaxa, Eliquis, Valsartan, etc.), or products in common use like talcum powder and weed killers. We’ve all seen or heard the disgusting ads trolling for victims: “If you have been diagnosed with [you name it], you may be entitled to compensation…”

            By the way, attorneys represent 2,000 plaintiffs in the $12 billion Purdue Pharma settlement case. Care to guess how big their piece of the pie will be?

Dreams of Ferries

            At the invitation of Brian Roth, mayor of Plymouth (NC), I attended a conference last week to hear the latest on the Harbor Town High Speed Ferry project. I was highly disappointed.

            The main speaker was State Representative Ed Goodwin (1^st District) who has been the project’s most enthusiastic supporter since the idea was first conceived in 1993. Which makes one wonder why a project envisioned 26 years ago has not yet come to fruition.

            There was no lack of enthusiasm in the room, as most attendees were local residents, and Plymouth stands to benefit greatly if the Harbor Town project ever materializes. The idea is to bring ferry service to towns along the Albemarle Sound, like Columbia, Edenton, Hertford, Plymouth, and even Manteo and Elizabeth City. Conceivably, most of the passengers would be tourists exploring these towns—and infusing them with dollars, thereby contributing to their growth and financial welfare.

            Unfortunately, Representative Goodwin did not provide the attendees with a business plan to match their enthusiasm. Some of his optimism comes from the success of the Hatteras-Okracoke ferry. But ferries sailing the Albemarle Sound would face a different set of operational and financial challenges.

            It would appear at this stage that the Harbor Town High Speed Ferry project is still a dream that has not awakened from its 26-year slumber.

Red Flag on Red Flag

            “DO SOMETHING!” That’s what we hear people scream after every shooting. They want the government to do something about the guns. And our politicians react by proposing yet more laws to infringe on “the right of the people to keep and bear arms.”

            It doesn’t matter that the strictest gun laws in the country do not prevent the carnage in Chicago and Baltimore every week. It doesn’t matter that background checks already on the books would not have prevented the El Paso and Dayton shooters from acquiring their guns. What matters is the Second Amendment itself. It has to go.

            There is no possible way that politicians can abolish the Second Amendment from our Bill of Rights. So, the next best thing is to chop it up into little pieces. Enter the latest proposal: “red flag” laws. Some 15 states already have them. Now, politicians like Senator Lindsey Graham think it’s time for red-flag laws to go national.

            Except that there are a few problems with such laws, beyond the fact that data accumulated since 2010 reveals that they have had no significant effect on violent crime in the states that have them. The problem may very well be with the administration of such laws. Who decides that an individual is a threat? By what standards? By what evidence?

            The real danger is that red-flag laws can become a slippery slope. Certifiable nuts should not have a gun. What about white supremacists? Or Trump supporters? Or climate deniers?  Or religious zealots? They’re all dangerous people, aren’t they? As presidential contender Corey Booker has said, “Red-flag laws…they’re nowhere near enough to stop these rising levels of mass shootings.”

            The only solution is to get rid of the Second Amendment. If we can’t abolish it outright, then we can do it piece by piece until all the guns have been confiscated from everybody. To hell with the Constitution.

Trump, His Own Worst Enemy

            When it comes to national politics, we seem to be living in two different universes revolving around the singular figure of Donald Trump.

            The left sees the president as the source of all evil. The El Paso massacre gave the Democrat presidential hopefuls and their media sycophants all the ammunition they could possibly want. It was no longer enough to call Trump a racist or a Nazi and a fascist; he was now the leader of the white supremacists. The president’s speech writer might as well have written the killer’s Manifesto…Trump probably wished it to happen…the killer was acting out Trump’s wishes in targeting Mexicans. No accusation was too extreme, too vile, too obscene.

            Trump’s acolytes on the right cried foul or changed the subject. Some on Fox News ignored El Paso altogether to focus on “the greatest scandal in the history of this country,” i.e., the soft coup attempt by leaders of the FBI and the DOJ to remove the president from office. They were positively giddy at the release of classified information that confirmed the conspiracy theory they have been pushing for months.

            It was like the two sides were lobbing lethal missiles at each other to persuade the independents in the political center to come over to their side.

            Meanwhile, the man in the middle, our dear president, took to the air and to Twitter to counterpunch, as he always does, not realizing or admitting that his pugnaciousness is in large measure what provoked the war. He is a fighter who appealed to the “deplorables” in defeating Hillary Clinton, but he is also the thin-skinned egotistical leader who turned off the independents who switched to the Democrat party in 2018 and cost the Republicans the House.

            Policy proposals from Democrats on the left (Medicare for all, free tuition, open borders, etc.) in ordinary times would be a sure prescription for disaster. But as long as President Trump continues his impulsive, ill-considered, and abusive attacks on his opponents, Democrats will focus on him in the coming elections. It worked in 2018, it will again in 2020.

Racism, Racism, Racism

            One would think that the importance of the 2020 elections is enough for everyone to focus on the issues. Unfortunately, that is not the case. The more candidates and their supporters fight for attention, the more they begin to look like schoolyard brawlers.

            First, it’s the name-calling. The most popular among many invectives is the accusation of racism. Corey Booker accuses Joe Biden of racism for his role in legislation that resulted in incarcerating more racial minorities; Tulsi Gabbard accuses Kammala Harris of racism for the same reason while she was California’s Attorney General; Harris accuses Biden of being a racist for not supporting school busing; Alexandria Alelxandria  Ocasio-Cortez accuses Pelosi of racism, a switch from calling President Trump a racist on a daily basis; the leftist media piles on and sees a racist motive in Trump’s pointing to Baltimore’s rat-infested neighborhoods; Trump and Elijah Cummings call each other racist on the same issue. In the end, if everybody is a racist, then “racist” means nothing; the term is completely de-valued.

            So, let’s get physical. We already know about Hollywood celebrities and their threats. Madonna would like to blow up the White House, while Kath Griffin, Mickey O’Rourke, George Lopez, and Rosie O’Donnell would like to see Trump dead by various means. But for others like Booker, Biden, and Robert DiNiro, a punch in the face would be punishment enough.    

            Aside from the Pay-per-View attraction of Trump and Biden duking it out behind the gym, I think the American people would like to see an end to this nonsense. What would it be like if everyone took a solemn vow never again to utter the words racist, Nazi, and fascist? Or to threaten a political opponent with physical harm? Would that mean a return to civility? But didn’t Joe Biden get crucified for his civility toward segregationist colleagues?

            When even civility is racist, banning the term racist has as much of a chance of success as preventing weeds from popping up in my garden.

           

Neglect and Indifference

            We have been inundated by commentary on the Mueller testimony. There is no point in my adding to the babble. But there is one other piece of news that isn’t getting the attention it deserves, and that is the ongoing disaster in Puerto Rico.

            Millions took to the streets this week to demand the ouster of President Ricardo Rossello after recordings of private conversations revealed that he is the ultimate creep, not to mention a cheap crook. The crowd succeeded. Rossello is headed for the door and well-deserved oblivion. But that is not the end of Puerto Rico’s problems.

            The devastating effects of Hurricane Maria showed what a basket case the island has become under the leadership of a string of incompetent and venal politicians. What a pity. This tropical paradise is blessed with so many gifts, one of which is a wonderful climate that makes it a tourist mecca, and another a population noted for its warmth, its generous spirit, and— yes—its loyalty to America. But investments in industry and infrastructure have been lagging, to put it mildly. The reason is endemic corruption.

            My wife’s parents emigrated from Puerto Rico to New York in the 30’s in search of a better life. So did many of her aunts, uncles, and cousins. The exodus continues, as Puerto Rico’s principal export is its people. As American citizens, Puerto Ricans are free to seek a better life in New York, Miami, or anywhere else in the land of opportunity. But why should they continue to suffer under the desperate conditions that compel them to do so?

            If anything, the images of a million people massed in the streets to demand Rossello’s ouster should focus our attention on the problems that continue to plague Puerto Rico. The people deserve better than our neglect and indifference.