The MAGA Lie: America IS a GREAT Country

You have been told, are being told, and will continue to be told, how bad our country is, how dark is our future. It’s a lie. It was a lie 8 years ago, it was a lie 4 years ago, it’s a lie now, and it will continue to be a lie until it not longer serves the purpose of the liars.

In the 10+ years since I retired, I’ve been to all four corners of our great nation, the Northwest  (including Alaska), the South and Southeast, the Southwest, and New England. And then, of course, I live in the middle (MO). From stunning vistas, happy people, and a humming economy, I’ve been privileged to witness a great country, of which I’m proud to be a citizen. 

But if you believe everything you hear, we are a nation in decline, no longer great, no longer successful, no longer strong, and faced with a dark, dismal future, unless you hand over power (lots of power) to people who can only see that darkness.

America IS a great country. MAGA is built on a lie, because its foundation is that once (AGAIN doesn’t imply, it clearly states) we were great, but we are no longer. Let me remind you, that was the slogan in 2016, as well. Let me also ask, when was that period of greatness that no longer exists?

I’ve travelled (literally) around the world, including South America, Australia and the South Pacific, and Europe), and there is no other country that can compare, no other country in which I’d prefer to live or be a citizen. I challenge you to name one. What other nation do we wish to serve as our model for greatness? With all due respect to the citizens of other nations who think theirs is also great, we are the Muhammad Ali of countries on our planet, “the greatest.”

Any politician who tells you otherwise, who tells you….

“We are a failing nation….”

“We are a nation that is hostile to liberty, freedom, and faith….”

“We are a nation whose economy has collapsed….’

“We are a nation where free speech is no longer allowed….”

“We are a nation that [has] lost its confidence, willpower, and strength….”

That politician is lying to you. Again.

When I hear parroting politicians try to sell the idea of a country that once was, but no longer is, great, I question not only their truthfulness but their motivation. My witness tells me they’re lying, because that is not what I’ve seen and continue to see, daily.  Sewing discord and discontent is simply their pathway and payoff to personal power and wealth. 

Selling fear and unhappiness is not a new political marketing strategy (the KKK used it with great success in the 1920’s; Hitler used it to great effect in Germany in the 1930’s). If they can convince you to be unhappy, they can also convince you that they, and they alone, can reverse that and make you happy again, protect you from mythical enemies who want to personally do you harm (who have YOUR failure as THEIR objective). 

But first the parrots must convince you to ignore everything that is good, beautiful, and great about our country, to look past all the so many positives that make us the envy of the world, and, instead, focus on our (undeniable) problems (great ≠ perfect or problem free) that remain to be, if not solved, at least improved.

If you can choose, and you can, “Choose Happy.” Only you can make that choice. Choose wisely.

P.S. Note well, please, that just because something is not YOUR problem does not mean it’s not A problem.                                                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                           -30- 

Good-bye to the Devil We Know....

I have never been a fan of the hyper-partisan, self-dealing* Mitch McConnell, but I have always been forced to admit to some grudging respect for his ability to accumulate and use power, to manipulate the system to the benefit of his party and (while it goes without saying but makes him no different than any of his colleagues in either party) himself.

However, I won’t start celebrating his long-goodbye announcement today any time soon, but not just because he will be replaced by someone a lot like him, albeit probably less effective in the short term. No, my fear is based on the ramifications of the power vacuum he is creating. 

The Berndt Power Theory postulates that political power in any environment is (essentially) constant and that the elimination or diminishment of any one power source will be replaced, perhaps by multiple persons, but replaced nonetheless. There will undoubtedly be some temporary disintegration of his power in the resulting friction between his colleagues to claim it as their own, but eventually equilibrium will be restored.

What worries me is the frightening and very real possibility that he will be replaced by a far worse devil, some nationalist MAGA toady that, combined with the possible reinstallation of Trump as president, would further undermine the already shaky foundations of democracy in the United States.

Senator McConnell, for all his partisanship, did serve as a check on the power of the nationalist MAGA wing, albeit such a gentle hand-check that even the most vigilant referee would be hard-pressed to call a foul. McConnell, at least, wanted power for the party which he believed was best suited to lead the country, was dedicated to the democratic traditions of the Senate (no matter how undemocratic they may often have seemed), believed in the rule of law, and practiced courtesy and decorum. I wish I were more confident that his replacement would have even a modicum of his level of honor and principles. But I have none.

*self-dealing ≠ corrupt by my definiton and applies to vitually every politician on the national stage. It’s what makes “politician” such a lucrative gig that its practioners will spend million$ to win a job that pays mere thousand$.

• I almost feel sorry for Mike Pence. Only almost, because he knew to whom he was, if not selling, at least renting his soul. Even if he didn’t, even if he was so naive and misguided to believe that he could ameliorate Trump’s toxicity, “Mother” knew and she didn’t keep her disdain a secret. Whether anyone else counseled him or not (aspirational minions are seldom the best source of wisdom), his wife tried to warn him, but ambition closed his eyes and ears to the obvious.
• Mike Pence is too much of a relgious zealot and idealogue on a quest for an American theocracy to ever get my vote. We could not be friends under any imaginable circumstances. The most the man who made one of the worst political and personal miscalculations in the history of American politics could hope for from me is the courtesy I would show almost any fellow human.
• There is, however, zero evidence that Mike Pence is anything but a good, decent man, unlike his former boss, for whom there is zero evidence that he is anything but a bad man. Vice-president Pence knew that but chose blind ambition over his beliefs to loyally serve “Despicable He.”
• His reward? Had there been a literal bus does anyone doubt the former president would have thrown him under it after being relegated to second place behind the Constitution? Mr. Pence is so vilified by his (ought to be former) party that he has already been forced to make room in that storage locker where he kept his principles for his doomed presidential campaign. Luckily, he had created some space by finding and displaying at least a modicum of integrity on January 6.
• And that’s why I (almost) feel sorry for him, in the same way I found sympathy for the Alec Guiness character who, at the end of Bridge Over the River Kwai, realized, to his horror, whom he had served.

R•E•S•P•E•C•T

Donald J. Trump is now President of the United States. Once again our country has navigated a peaceful transition of power (despite dire predictions to the contrary by some who were certain, without evidence other than their own, dislike may be too mild a word, that President Obama and his “libtard” minions would somehow try to subvert the process). Please note, I am referring only to the official transition, not the actions of anarchists.

I have tried to be respectful, really I have. I know that I honestly do respect any number of individuals who voted for Mr. Trump because I respect their life accomplishments. I even understand, at least on an intellectual level, the frustrations that led to their decisions. Still, perhaps I did fail in that regard. Some have at least implied that. Some obviously took personally my expressed doubts about the new president and his fitness for the office he now occupies and translated that into personal disrespect. I must also admit, however, that perhaps my attempts at respect were superficial, masking my inability to understand with words, but no sincere feelings or empathy. I also admit I was often gritting my teeth as I typed and perhaps that came through.

It’s a conundrum. I respect the Office of the President of the U.S and will continue to do so. I will, I keep telling myself, give the office far more respect than so many people gave it during the Obama years. (I certainly won’t shout out “Liar” during a speech or make “ape” or other subtext racist references about the President or First Lady. I won’t criticize his appearance, his wife, or his children.) I will reserve my criticism for actions with which I disagree and not descend into personal attacks. The former is my right (and duty) as a citizen; the latter makes me no better than those who were so viciously partisan and personally despicable for the last eight years.

But I do not respect the man; I do not respect Donald J. Trump. It’s not about his beliefs (even if I could figure out what he really believes), nor is it about his plans for the country (whatever they are this week). I might disagree with those, but they don’t create any problems in terms of respect. I do not respect Donald Trump, the man, because he is not a good person. There is no evidence that he possesses any personal character traits that are admirable or that fit my core values of honesty, loyalty, integrity, respect or kindness. I have no respect for bullies. I find it ironic that the “party of personal responsibility” is being led by a man who never taken any personal responsibility for anything, who has never made a mistake, never apologized, never been at fault for any failure. I do not understand how any woman can be an ardent supporter (not the same as voting for him as the “lesser of two evils”). His demonstrated attitude toward women precludes any personal respect from me.

Nevertheless, it is now up to me to somehow navigate that narrow path between respect for the office vs. respect for the man. I am skeptical, but perhaps the office will (magically) imbue Mr. Trump with some new admirable personal traits that have been previously camouflaged or suppressed. I would love for that to be true and will try to stay alert to the possibility (however remote) that he will grow in office. I am more inclined, however, to adapt a golf adage, “The office doesn’t grow character, it reveals it.” But maybe I’ll be wrong and, if so, I am hopeful that I’ll be honest enough with myself to admit it if it happens. I truly do hope so.

Good luck President Trump. We will see what the future holds. May you truly inspire greatness for all our citizens.

Please note. My concerns are not for myself, not personal. They are for the country. As an affluent white male, I have no personal worries. In fact, I am more likely to personally benefit economically than so many who actually voted for him. Unless the entire country goes to hell (Trump haters’ concerns that we’re there already are overstated in my view), my family and I will be fine, no matter what kind of president he turns out to be. 

Part of Life is Leaving It Behind

 It has (after a long period of agonizing soul-searching that even took me to a psychologist) occurred to me that if you're ambivalent, you can't be fully committed, and if you can't be fully committed (and circumstances don't require you to continue), then that's probably a clue it's time to move on. So, if you'll pardon my self-indulgence, this is what I started writing (without any certainty that I wanted to publish it) as I wrestled with my decision about continuing my teaching career, until finally reaching the conclusion that my ambivalence was sending me a clear message -- I had already made the decision!
    So, on Monday, 3/18, I will be giving Carolyn an early birthday present, turning in my retirement letter. I'm hopeful that it's a present that I will enjoy, as well.

*****************************************************************************************

I am treading water in the Gulf of Ambivalence, trying to come to a decision on whether to continue (or at least at what level--I'm close to full-time now) my career as a teacher. Being a teacher has always been more than a job for me; a teacher is who I am at least as much as what I do, certainly far more than just how I’ve made a living for the past 42 years.

We teachers are kind of like hosts at a big, annual party that lasts for 9-10 months. As a teaching staff we are responsible for providing the sustenance and entertainment for our guests, ostensibly while steering them toward a bright and productive future. The limits of my energy, time, and motivation have pretty much reduced me to bringing chips and dip. While I confess that I had the fantasy of ending my career as Mr. Chips, I had a more Peter O'Toole kind of image in mind. 

Of course, I like to believe that my chips are unique, that my dip is a personal brand developed over 40+ years. I also like to believe that my scintillating company is of value, because I really do care for my guests and take pride in being a congenial, stimulating host, worthy of their time and effort. Still, despite assurances to the contrary from students and their parents, I’ve come to wonder if I’m not spinning my world-view for my own convenience.

The truth is, I am no longer willing to invest the time to develop new recipes or get advanced training in party-giving. It’s not that I don’t want to work with my colleagues, to pitch in when help is needed, to contribute my expertise, such as it is, to the mix of ideas, or to be a part of group projects, but there are definitely limits to how much I’m willing to do to make my party room better. Sure, I’m always open to and on the lookout for minor changes to improve the ambiance or content of my room, to tweak my time-tested recipes based on my guests' needs, but I’m pretty much as good a room host as I want to be.

Sadly, but realistically, I am content to manage my own little room with its chips and dip, and enjoyable, sometimes, perhaps, even memorable conversations on wide-ranging topics, flavored with dashes of serendipity. I don’t lack for guests in my room; people always seem to be happy to spend time there, but that may be because I have become a purveyor of tasty junk food; what they may need are people willing to make them eat their vegetables.

The Party Biz has changed dramatically since I started hosting, with ever increasing demands for documentation and accountability. I concede that party-house management has every right to insist on certain standards, personal and party improvement plans, even a certain level of standardization. But, to paraphrase Bob Dylan, “That ain’t me, babe.” What you see is what you get and I can no longer commit to more than what I am already am. 

I recognize that a good room requires not only the artistry to capture an audience, but sufficient planning to implement that artistry. At this stage I confess that I rely more on my skills, experience, and 42 years of previous performances than new preparation. If that’s no longer good enough, well, then it’s time to go our separate ways, ideally with no hard feelings on either side.

Selfishly, I know that I may (probably will) miss being a room host; I’ll definitely miss working with my great team of co-hosts, professionals for whom I have the utmost respect. I’ll miss the interaction with my guests and visitors. (I do sometimes wonder if I need to teach or if I just need an audience.) Although I still love my kids and believe I help them grow, maybe it's time for me to take the advice I give my kids: "Good enough is seldom good enough." 
    It's kind of moot whether I can no longer give my best or if my best is no longer good enough. I’m becoming increasingly frustrated and dissatisfied with my own performance, and while I’m egotistical enough to think that my 80-90% is as good as many others’ 100%, the question is, “Is it good enough for me?” If I’m not sure, I’d rather go out a little too soon than a little too late. (I'd rather be Stan Musial than Willie Mays, although I don't claim teacher-equivalence to either of those baseball greats.) 

I am also aware that, personally, retirement may not be good for me, that I may, probably will, regret walking away from a keystone of my identity, losing the regular interaction with students and colleagues. When I returned to the classroom at Schechter four years ago, I came home that first day, hugged my wife and cried, saying, “I had so much fun today!” While I still have fun working with my kids, I’m not sure that’s enough, that it’s not just selfishness on my part. Their job is to learn, not make my life entertaining or pleasurable.

As noted way back in the introduction, I started writing this with no clear intent to publish, but simply needing to put thoughts down in writing to help me with the decision. It’s also possible that the decision is no longer mine to make, but that’s OK because I ceded that power; in fact, I may have retired myself by being open and honest about my lack of ambition in the professional growth arena. 

If such is the case, I can live with that (especially since I'm taking the decision back into my own hands now). It is now time to redefine my normal and find a new focus that satisfies my needs, but, for better and worse, it seems unlikely that classroom teaching will continue to be much more than the background of that picture.
Final note: The title is from a song (Adrienne Young).