The Ironic Argument of Birth

Let me be clear. I think Ted Cruz is something of an extremist maniac and would only vote for him in a forced choice between him and someone named Trump. Cruz is at least a more intelligent and less mean-spirited maniac.

I have always assumed the interpretation of the Constitution of “natural born citizen” to be universal and mean a person who was a citizen by birth. However, apparently there are some who question that, although it seems patently unfair and manifestly ridiculous to eliminate someone who was, for example, born to an American serviceman or woman or diplomat at a foreign hospital. It would also eliminate my brother (born in Belgium), although I think there are plenty of other disqualifiers in his case. But I doubt he would vote for me, either.

In any case, if this is the best shot Trump can take at Cruz (both being denizens of the same wing and attractive to [essentially] the same constituent demographic), he should bow out now, because it’s a weak argument, even if some Constitutional scholars argue to the contrary. 

But wait. If you agree that the birth argument against Cruz is bogus, but entertained that same argument (no matter how briefly) against Obama (even if he HAD been born in Kenya, an allegation disproved so often and thoroughly it’s absurd that so many continue to believe it over fact), check your irony meter.

Also, please note that the Constitution is now, and has always been, open to interpretation, from Day 1. Please keep that in mind when you start quoting Justice Scalia about “original intent.” Part of that brilliant document’s great strength is its flexibility as a living blueprint for our government, built to change with the times.  That, above all, in my view, is the supreme testament to the foresight of the founders who supported its creation.

You can’t have an argument both ways to fit your support of a candidate or issue, although I have no doubt some will try.

Holiday PSA: Politics and Family

It's not that simple....

    As the holidays come crashing down around us (Do yours sneak up on you? Wow, lucky you.), I am sharing once again this PSA on dealing with your relatives who are less enlightened or politically astute, and who have an apparently innate need to share their misguided opinions with you (with your best interests and edification in mind, of course).

The phrase that I plan to use and strongly recommend that you keep handy (aside from Happy Holidays or Merry Christmas or Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Hanukkah or whatever works in your family’s culture wars): “I don’t think it’s that simple.” Because, really, nothing is. You get to retain your claim to your beliefs without engaging in a no-win argument. “Agree to disagree” sounds dismissive, but most importantly, doesn’t work very well. At least it doesn’t in my family; that phrase tends only to inspire only additional louder voices and increasingly tedious arguments as the evening gets longer and the wine and beer supplies get shorter. Plus I can only go wash the dishes so many times before my absence becomes obvious.

My father used to tell me about a boss he had who was fond of saying, “When you find the answer it will be simple.” Because we seldom agreed on anything, I was always compelled to add, “… and wrong.” My father was a good man, and intelligent, but incapable of seeing any shades of grey. Like (apparently) many of his fellow citizens, he envisioned a world that conformed to his values and saw a straight path to that destination.

I don’t believe that even his world, back 75 or so years ago, was ever really that simple, but even had it been, I think most people would agree that it has become increasingly complicated and at an ever-accelerating rate. To ignore that fact makes you, well, President-elect Donald Trump. Simple solutions, as attractive as they might seem on the surface, ignore the Law of Unintended Consequences. (Of course, complicated solutions, with so many moving parts, generate their own, as well, perhaps on an even larger scale.)

Although I’m not going to convince my brothers any more than they’re going to convince me, “I don’t think it’s that simple” avoids the discussion becoming angry or personal, with the resultant (potential) hurt feelings. As I’ve noted before, talking about politics and religion is, almost by definition, personal because those topics deal with our most deeply held beliefs and world views.

I’ll let you know it works out. I’m hopeful, if not optimistic. But my solution, too, probably isn’t that simple.

For Father's Day

If you have siblings, there is one thing you can be pretty certain of: your view of your father is different than theirs.

Two-plus years ago, as I listened to my brothers speaking at my father’s funeral, I remember wondering if we had existed in parallel universes. Their descriptions of the man were very different than mine, but much more similar to each other’s. I’m not claiming my memory of him was more accurate than theirs (although I’m clearly the most objective and accurate of the four of us), but the person they described was not the person I knew.

Carolyn’s perception of her father is also very different than that of her brothers and sisters (“those” may perhaps be the more accurate pronoun, because each probably has his/her own perception). That I shared her high opinion of him probably also differentiates me from my brothers- and sisters-in-law. 

None of this is particularly surprising, because our views of our fathers are distinguished by our personal views of the world around us, as well as our father’s place in it. Our view of our fathers is also based on their relationships with us, and our actions and reactions are certainly at least partly responsible for that. Birth order, family dynamics, marital relations, life events, all change us; we need to recognize and remember they changed our fathers, as well.

I apparently found my father, at least during my childhood and adolescence, less overbearing and controlling than my brothers, perhaps because I tended to be (again, in my view) either more compliant or less confrontational. Our conflicts came later, when I, at long last, established my independence and my own identity.

I have my theories as to why Carolyn had the closest relationship with her Dad of her siblings, but that she thought he was great certainly colored my view of him. I also acknowledge that I owe him a lot for the important role he played in her life and growth.

It is just one more advantage of having only one child. While Nicci certainly changed me, made me a better person, a better husband, a better teacher, her view of me has no competition. Although maybe, given my various personality incarnations, perhaps even that’s not true. My old joke used to be, “If you don't like me, just wait a few years; I’ll be somebody different.” Usually I was. I just hope that each variation ended up with me being a better person.