Voting By Mail -- A First Person Experience

While it will come as no surprise that I support vote by mail, this is less an advocacy piece than a recounting of my wife’s and my experience with the process in the August primary election today.

When MO offered vote by mail as COVID roiled the country, we requested ballots for the elections in March, August and November. Carolyn and I are of a certain age, which puts us at risk. While our choice protects us, even more importantly it reduces the risk we could pose to our immune-suppressed daughter and immune-compromised granddaughter. We are grateful to have that choice. Supporting the process was also (a small) part of our motivation.

We returned our August ballots last week. Both ballots were mailed at the post office in the same box on the same day at the same time. I used the QR-code to track the ballots; mine arrived and was registered. Carolyn’s, however, was noted as “being processed by the USPS.” My daughter tipped me off to 1-866-OURVOTE helpline, so I called them this morning, expecting it would be more of a report than solution. However, this (national) organization walked me through the steps we could take to try to make sure Carolyn’s vote would count.

Complicating things, Carolyn’s back picked this time to act up and she wasn’t able to stand in line or probably even walk into the polling place. I went to the polling place and explained the situation in all its complicated glory. The local election officials would get a 5-Star Yelp review if that were a thing.

After explaining the situation to the poll workers through our masks, they called HQ, which tracked down her ballot. Apparently the ballot arrived but missing an important check mark in some box. HQ claimed to have called yesterday and left a message, but I’m skeptical, given that there was no recording in our inbox. In any case, we were offered two options. Go to HQ, claim and cast her ballot, or come to our polling place, claim a lost ballot and vote. To accommodate her (temporary) physical challenge, we opted for “curbside voting,” and her replacement ballot was brought to the car.

So this trial run gives us food for thought. I can only speak to our experience here in Missouri. I am sharing these observations. 

• If you’re going to mail in your ballot, double and triple check that all necessary boxes have been checked (we thought we had). 

• Give yourself time to track your ballot. The USPS is in the process of being defunded; the system and the workers are being set up for failure. 

• Understand you must weigh the competing risks of your votes not being counted and exposure to a potentially fatal disease.

• After all the hoops we had to jump through, we came to the conclusion that any fear of massive voter fraud, at least in MO, is unfounded. The Republican poll worker agreed with that assessment, as we chatted while Carolyn filled out her ballot.

• The (bi-partisan) poll workers we met and worked with were dedicated to ensuring that everyone who wanted to vote was able to do so, despite the difficulties of our times. I mean, “curbside voting,” who’d have thought?

• It’s pretty easy to make a mistake that could cost you your vote.

• There is help available. Again: 1-866-OURVOTE

Final anecdote from the day. As the election officials (one from each party) came out to the car, I explained, again, how the muscle relaxers Carolyn had taken for her back made walking and standing an unsafe activity. This good-natured exchange followed.

The (Republican) poll worker said, “So she’s on drugs?” 

I answered, “I told you she wanted a Democratic ballot.” 

“Of course, thank you.”

Another Plague – TDS – Trump Defense Syndrome

This was written a few weeks ago, long before former Secretary of Defense James Mattis offered his rebuke (Click for Link)

Although I’ve been called a “hater,” I do not “hate” Donald Trump. I certainly do not hate those who still support him. Yes, I have no respect him for him, certainly not as a person, but also not as a leader. He must however, be given credit for effectively stoking anger, fear and division. 

Hatred, however, would require more of my energy than he deserves or time than I have for someone of his ilk. So, no, I do not hate him; that’s my choice, albeit one that requires constant mindfulness.

Of course, that will not satisfy those who suffer from Trump Defense Syndrome, TDS. Never mind that many of those same people “hated” Obama (personally) for their own reasons which need not be addressed here. 

The difference, however, is that those of us who felt many of the attacks on President Obama were unfair or unwarranted, did not take those calumnies personally. Just because some believed him to be a bicycle-helmet wearing Kenyan-born Muslim socialist/communist in a tan suit did not get interpreted as a personal attack on those of us who either supported him or did not find him nearly as threatening or abhorrent as Fox News and fake memes wanted us to believe.

But what I’ve noticed, for the many suffering from TDS, is that ANY fault-finding of the president, no matter how rational or justified or even trivial, is taken as a personal affront, a personal attack on them and their values, and is responded to in like manner. That parallels the reaction of the president himself, of course. Any stricture, even any question that he interprets as negative is viewed as a personal attack, because EVERYTHING is about HIM.

I won’t deny that some of those “attacks” on him are personal (although often, IMO, well deserved), but many, if not most, others are just questions that he seems incapable of answering in any objective manner or opposition to his ideas based on political or philosophical differences. His midnight tweets evidence how personally he takes ANY criticism. I find it ironic that a person who revels in personal attacks on his opponents is so thin-skinned when the mirror reflects in his direction. But isn’t that the way bullies typically operate? And yes, that is a personal attack on a despicable being, but not on you. But if you think this is personal, you may be, whether you recognize it or not, infected with TDS.

Why I Reject Conspiracy Theories

Conspiracy theories may be spreading faster than COVID-19, but I don’t buy them any more than I buy brussel sprouts. Maybe not for the reasons you might want to believe, however.

I view myself as a pragmatist. I don’t expect my words here to offer a blinding flash of (en)light(enment). I don’t expect to alter people’s beliefs or behaviors. Even when I do engage on social media, it’s generally to either ask a (pointed) question or to provide factual, or at least contraindicatory, research from a reliable source. My only real hope is to plant a seed that might grow into a “What if I’m wrong?” tree (or shrub). While I don’t expect many of my seeds to actually germinate, I am, at least so far, willing to keep sewing them, even as my patience wanes.

No, the main reason I don’t believe in conspiracy theories is because, if those theories are true, then what’s the point? Of much of anything.

If there really is some dark state cabal manipulating the levers of government, our pathetic little posts will have no impact. We don’t have near enough power, even if our followers are legion. Our (well, your) mini armory is no match for any forces of evil. If there is some secret cell in charge of the economy, we’re powerless against it. We’re nothing more than an expendable pawn in a 3-D chess match, and we started playing on move 42. 

You can watch Fox News or MSNBC for the rest of your life, but if there are forces at work in the shadows, they’re well-entrenched, well-funded, well-orchestrated, and inextricably woven into the fabric of our world. You’re toast, we’re all toast. 

Therefore, I refuse to believe in conspiracy theories — because if those of you who DO believe in them are correct, both you and I have zero real control over our lives, and the decisions we are permitted to make cannot, will not be allowed to, change the big picture. I’m left with where to go for dinner and what to order (when that becomes possible again). Which is the same place you are, except you can’t even enjoy that dinner, because you’re too worried about the conspiracies manipulating your world and your life — while futilely waiting for your social media memes to move the needle. 

Of what value is a life without meaning? If my life is to have any meaning, I need to believe that what I do matters, that the decisions I make matter, and not just for me. 

Decades ago I had visions of changing the world; I even accumulated a certain level of power in my small corner of that world. When I realized my pinch of power amounted to, at best, a scrap of thread in the grand tapestry of life, I refocused, desiring to change ever decreasing acreage (for the better, of course, was my hope). Eventually I realized that only those whom I could touch directly could benefit from what I brought to the party. (#mixedmetaphors!)

Which brings me to today, with my family . I will do everything in my power to make their lives better, to protect them however I can. If, along the way, I can make things better for others in my life, I’m happy and more than willing to contribute to and model living a life where that can happen.

If I’m wrong and there really are conspiratorial forces of darkness in control of our lives, then what’s the point? Because none of what I do matters. I cannot, will not, live my life like that. I’d rather be delusional than powerless.

Oh, and if you celebrate the conspiracist who mirrors your world view but dismiss inconvenient whistleblower revelations, it may be you who’s delusional.

What Does Your Doctor Say?

I recently shared an Axios story (click for link) — only one of every three Americans believe the published death statistics for the current pandemic. To my way of thinking, that in itself is concerning – trust is clearly in short supply. It is even more concerning to me that our distrust is fueled and magnified by our political beliefs. In short, lefties think the numbers are too low while righties think they’re inflated. 

An expanded reply to a response re: that article follows. Because I think the reply has some merit on its own, I edited it and gave it its own blog entry. As I mentioned in the original post, the article ought to give anyone pause, although not necessarily hope. 

“My takeaway from this article is that it had absolutely nothing to do with which side is right or wrong, because it’s irrelevant (to the article). My takeaway is that perception is trumping reality and what people believe is based, for two-thirds of the populace, on 1) where they sit on the political spectrum and 2) where they get their news, offering conclusive evidence that people don’t believe what they hear and/or see, rather they see/hear what they believe.

As for me, I’m trusting the advice of MY doctor (if I don’t trust him, I need a new doctor), to whom I pay a lot of money, not some “expert” on cable news or You Tube or Facebook. I wonder how many of the people sharing memes, supporting protests, posting articles or videos, have actually consulted THEIR DOCTORS?

I think that’s going to be my standard response: What does your doctor say?

My doctor says it’s too soon to know anything for sure, because this crisis is unlike anything we’ve experienced before. He says it’s too soon to stop being careful and smart; neither is it wise to stop trusting science. Yes, I talked to him directly, personally, after he responded to my email with a phone call and 15-minute conversation. Additionally, he suggested that the CDC, Dr. Fauci, and even Gov. Cuomo are worth listening to; that letting other people be the guinea pigs who test the safety of dine-in restaurants is probably a smart strategy;* and that he felt safe in agreeing that cancelling our cruise this summer was the right call, although other travel this summer might be considered, given new safety protocols.

“You can’t eliminate all risk, you can’t shut the country down for the next 18 months; you can use common sense.”

We also concurred that while common sense, like trust, is, and has been, in short supply for quite some time, far too many people who think they have it, don’t.

* Carry-out to support your favorite eateries is very low risk, however. That is what we're doing to keep our favorites alive until the time when WE feel it's safe to start dining out again. That will be OUR call (after consulting OUR doctor), no matter the decision of any politicians to open up the economy based on some arbitrary, but politically motivated, date.

Random Reminders On Civil Disobedience

No, this is not an analysis of Thoreau’s essay in Walden. Just some quick random thoughts on that venerable protest strategy.

• Thoreau went to jail.

• Mahatma Gandhi went to jail (and worse).

• Rosa Parks went to jail.

• Martin Luther King, Jr. went to jail. 

If you want to join that admirable group and practice civil disobedience, you have my respect and I support your right to do so, whether or not I agree with your POV or stance. You are joining in an honorable tradition – but only if you don’t whine if/when you face the consequences of your actions.

You don’t get to claim civil disobedience AND immunity from the ramifications of your actions. The above-named historical heroes all believed they were on the side of the angels, but, and this is key, they were willing to pay the price of standing (or sitting, in the case of Parks) on the “wrong” side of authority in order to challenge the injustice they saw around them. These masters of civil disobedience actually invited arrest to bring their cause front and center, rather than use cowardly intimidation tactics to avoid any consequence.

You want to grab your gun and march, that is your right. I don’t care what name you want to give your cause or your actions, but you can’t claim civil disobedience. That phrase is reserved for the courageous men and women who stand up for their beliefs without trying to avoid the consequences of their actions.

While it shouldn’t be necessary, let me point out that Thoreau, Gandhi, Parks, & King were non-violent protesters, not gun-toting rowdies. Armed protest threatening violence isn’t civil disobedience, it’s rebellion and insurrection and carries the potential of far more severe repercussions than jail. We had one civil war; it didn’t work out so well for the instigators – and, sadly, the defenders of the country and Constitution who shared the horror of that conflict also paid a steep price. Ironic that so many of the participants are waving flags of history’s losers (Swastikas, Stars & Bars) as they protest.

Dark Days

Just a reminder, most of my writing is really done for myself, as sort of therapy and a way to organize my thoughts. That especially applies to this piece.

I’m not that tough. I haven’t had to be. My experience with (true) adversity has been minimal. Even events that were cataclysmic didn’t really affect me personally that much. In terms of grief, I think it’s safe to say I’ve had less than my share.

I try to be aware and empathetic, so I’ve never been ignorant of world events and how they impact others; I’ve never belonged to the Libertarian school of thought that says, “If it’s not MY problem, it’s not a problem worth society taking a role in solving.” 

I was in high school when President Kennedy was assassinated; I thought it was awful, but it didn’t affect me like some of my classmates (or my wife, whom I was a long way, in terms of both time and distance, from knowing at the time). I understood why people were upset at the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but its only direct impact on me was relief that the class I cut wouldn’t count against me because the professor was so distraught he cancelled it. 

I legitimately failed my physical (which I took, no doctor’s note for me) after being drafted during the Vietnam War, and I darkly joked that for me to boycott classes after the Kent State massacre would have required I actually go to class. The floods in the district in which I taught were more impactful on my students than me. Student deaths are an unfortunate fact of life; I always tried to be supportive, but I felt far worse for my kids than myself. I knew that 9-11 was world changing, but I was always confident that we’d adapt and recover – and we did, even if such a recovery required redefining “normal.” 

I guess what I’m saying is that none of the above were really all that personal. Even my personal grief has been generally muted and not exactly tragic. Deaths of too young friends and co-workers were sad, but not devastating. The one unexpected death that I did grieve faded and didn’t resurface until well after the event itself, sitting with my wife having a drink, when the tears blew in like a summer storm. But like a storm, they, too, passed quickly and my life returned to normal.

But this feels different. This C-19 pandemic doesn’t seem like a temporary inconvenience, but more of a permanent upheaval in life as we know it, or at least I know it. Maybe things will truly get better, but at the moment I have almost no hope of an only slightly modified new normal, like 9-11. And I don’t feel well positioned to deal with it. Not tough enough, if you will. 

Part of that is based on my complete lack of confidence in the president of my country. I didn’t feel that way after 9-11. I’ve never felt this way, and I’ve lived under 11 previous presidents of both parties, 10 of whom I remember with some, if varying degrees of, clarity. I may not have been happy with the country’s direction or presidential leadership, but I viewed those administrations like I viewed some of the school administrators for whom I worked: “I’ll be here after you’re gone.” 

Congress, with its obsession on tribal victories, is only a little better. That toxic combo of presidential incompetence and irresponsibility and tribal, winner take all, congressional warfare, is just part of the problem, though. 

Another part, and related to my lack of confidence in the chief executive, is that mitigation compliance has become political, almost perverse. “If I support Trump, I must oppose any action to tamp down the pandemic. If I support Trump, attempts at mitigation are a plot against his re-election.” Interestingly this has even become a bit separated from political party; in Missouri there’s a protest planned against a Republican governor who was late to the party and an unenthusiastic guest but eventually joined in issuing a “Stay at Home” order.

Right now the disease is winning, even if far too many people are in denial, which threatens to make it even worse. I have little hope of a return to my comfortable, privileged life, and I, myself, am so much better off than people who are truly suffering, who have lost not just livelihoods but loved ones. For perhaps the first time since my early 20s, when I sort of enjoyed wallowing in negativity and angst, I am struggling to channel my inner Polyanna.

Random Thoughts: Senator Bernie Sanders & Various Other Political Stuff

• I have many friends and family who supported Senator Bernie Sanders. I respect the choice, process, beliefs, and values of these good, honest, hard-working, patriotic Americans whose reactions, right now, seem to range from denial to disappointment to despondency and despair, with End of the World (REM) as background music. Senator Sanders may have been at the bottom of my list, but I don't know of any followers supporting him out of a desire for “free stuff” for themselves. None. Zero. Not One. That’s an insulting fake news slander.

• 4 years ago, teaching American Gov’t and Politics at Lindbergh, I told my kids that Senator Sanders’ legacy would be the detoxification of the word “Socialist” for the next generations of young voters. I didn’t anticipate he’d try again, because I thought his window had closed. Turned out it had.

• However, had I known HRC would run such an abysmal, yet arrogant/entitled campaign (the arrogant/entitled parts were no surprise), I might have actually voted for Senator Sanders in the 2016 primary. Despite what some believe, I claim neither party, so I sat it out. Any palatable Republicans had been eliminated by the time of Missouri’s primary. (Bonus points – name the one I could have easily supported.) Two populists would have at least been interesting. 

• Full Disclosure: I would vote for the dish sponge we forgot to rinse out before leaving on our last trip before I’d even consider casting a ballot for the current occupant of the White House; at least the sponge could be cleaned up and made useful. And whether cleaned up or discarded, the dish sponge wouldn’t be dangerous – and maybe smarter. 

• By the time Missouri’s primary rolled around this year, all of my favored (Democrat) options had also been eliminated. So, given my choices, I went with Biden, because while a President Sanders doesn’t particularly frighten me, Candidate Sanders is, in my view, more worrisome. But who knows, maybe the Democrat Party would also turn out to be cowardly sycophants* were he to win (although I obviously didn’t like his chances of defeating President Trump; neither did Putin and the Russians, apparently).

• Why should it come as any kind of surprise that Democrat-identifying voters would want a nominee who is, you know, a bona fide Democrat and party member? 

• Didn’t Senator Sanders have four years to actually join the Democrat Party if he wanted to be its standard bearer? I respect that he was standing up for principles, but you can’t reasonably object to the cost of doing so. It’s like committing an act of civil disobedience and then complaining when you get arrested because you’re on the side of the angels. 

• Sanders supporters also might want to consider that, just because they are passionate about their candidate, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t get cheated as much as failed to stir those same feelings in enough of the voters who chose to participate in the Democrat Party nomination process. To imply otherwise is kind of insulting.

• Joe Biden is going to be the nominee of the Democrat Party. Respected non-partisan pollster Nate Silver of 538 puts his odds at >99%, followed by None and Sen. Sanders, in that order. Voters will, essentially, need to choose between Joe Biden and Donald Trump. Sanders supporters will not be the first, nor, sadly, the last, to have to hold their noses when they vote. Sitting out, writing in, protesting or choosing a third party are votes for the incumbent. If it’s a matter of principle, do what you must. Just remember, as Senator Sanders himself learned, those principled actions have consequences. Well, not in Missouri, because your vote, if it’s like mine, doesn’t really count. I’ll cast it anyway, though.

Other political observations, not always new

• True believers and ideologues make me nervous. Having spent more than a few years as a true-believer, I understand better than most how those kinds of blinders work. I like to think I was more pragmatic than most true-believers, but I also recognize that not everyone would agree. (However, as evidence, I offer one of my favorite smh compliments from a dear friend: “You’re the sanest gadfly I’ve ever known.”)

• Trump supporters who want attack perceived character flaws in Joe Biden might want to remember they live in glass houses – stained glass, not plexiglass. They forfeited that argument four years ago and I’ve seen no improvement since, except that his adulterous and lecherous proclivities have probably been more restricted lately.

• I wonder how many people who claim to be embarrassed by Trump, or excuse themselves with “I don’t like him but…” bothered to cast a protest vote for one of the other candidates in the Republican primary? (about 5% apparently) It’s not like his nomination is in doubt. Some state Republican parties even cancelled their primaries altogether. A free chance to make a statement. I no longer get his so-called surveys, so my “spitting in the wind” response days are over.

• Do partisan political memes make ANYONE feel better, besides you, maybe? Are they helpful in a time when we need to be pulling together? Do they provide real information? Can you recognize a rhetorical question?

• Finally, political parties do not exist to help people. They do not exist to help you; they do not exist to help me. That is a truth that crosses party lines, both Republican and Democrat. Their prime directive is the accumulation and consolidation of their own power. If the last four years haven’t amply demonstrated that, you’ve been distracted by the unfortunately unscripted reality show playing daily. Any benefit that comes to people, including their individual members, is merely a happy coincidence.

* The Republican Party kowtowing (oooh, irony) to seemingly every Trump whim and whine makes me wonder if the spelling should be changed to “psychophant.”