NFL Boycott: I wouldn’t kneel for the Anthem but I will stand with a man who chose to

Football is the only sport I still follow through the regular season. There are too many games in the other sports, so I only pay attention to the playoffs. Sunday afternoons watching football in the fall is a great unwind for the weekend, and I think the Browns were going to have a great year. But I have to give that up because of the NFL’s treatment of Colin Kaepernick.

It’s really difficult to argue that Kaepernick didn’t deserve even a look from a team. For a short while, he was looking like a premiere quarterback in the league. He’s still in his twenties. Think of some of the former solid quarterbacks who have at least gotten looks as potential backups. Think of some of the baggage some of those players carried and still got hired. (Michael Vick, as an example.) So we know why he didn’t get the shot. He knelt during the National Anthem.

This either upset the NFL powers that be or the powers that be of the NFL determined this upset enough of their fan base that they decided the controversy of shunning him outweighed the controversy of allowing him to play. The fans offended by Kaepernick’s kneeling for the National Anthem have all entered his mind and determined that he is disrespecting the flag of the country and everyone who fought and died protecting the freedoms that flag represents. Because to recognize that he is actually exercising one of the freedoms that our country was founded on by choosing a form of protest that would, and undeniably did, draw attention to an issue in this country genuinely important to him, and one he was willing to risk his livelihood on, which it has ultimately cost him, would prove they’re being self-righteous, which those fans are motivated not to do.

We actually don’t know what motivates Colin Kaepernick to kneel during the National Anthem, not for sure, but everything points to him being a man of integrity with the legitimate issue of instances of blacks consistently receiving unfair treatment, including getting shot and killed, by some portion of the nation’s police force at statistically anomalous rates. Wherever we stand on that issue, no one can point to it as trite.

So this is about the NFL, either by capitulating to a portion of its fan base or acting on its own set of beliefs, telling an individual he must stand for the country’s anthem. Forced displays of loyalty to the country, besides being oxymoronic, are in direct opposition to everything America stands for, which ironically seems to me more disrespectful to the flag and to the people who died protecting the country. By supporting the NFL, we’re supporting forced displays of loyalty. So I feel I must withdraw all support from the NFL. For me, this won’t be too hard. I maybe watch ten games a season. For other people this will be a lot harder. I would suggest doing what you can. If everyone gives a little less time, attention, and money to the NFL this season, they’ll get the message that we stand with Colin Kaepernick’s right to kneel during the Anthem. They’ll get the message that we won’t continue to support a multi-billion dollar business while it flouts one of the principles this nation was founded on.

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Why the Confederate Flag Should Go

People are sincerely asking about the Confederate flag and other symbols, statues of leaders from the South during slavery, being taken down. A lot of this can be explained by correcting the common misconception that there is such a thing as a private language. Language is by its very nature public. You can take a very enjoyable trip down the rabbit-hole on this by reading an essay by David Foster Wallace, “Authority and American Usage,” which is an essay about usage dictionaries that is gobs more fun to read than you just imagined when you read “an essay about usage dictionaries.”

Symbols, like the Confederate flag, work the same way. What the public thinks of at the sight of an image matters over private opinion. This will make more sense when we look at an even more extreme symbol, the swastika. The swastika was a symbol of peace the Nazis stole because they thought it looked cool. No one would get away with wearing a swastika on his or her shirt with a message underneath saying, If you find this shirt offensive, you don’t know your history (because it started as a symbol of peace.) But probably just about everyone has seen someone wearing a shirt with a Confederate flag on it, accusing us of not knowing our history if we’re offended. Whether or not people who wear those shirts truly feel they’re celebrating their heritage or not is irrelevant, because symbols, like language, are not private.

Then people are saying, Who’s next? If we take down the Robert E. Lee statues, what about George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, they were slave owners? Personally, I’m not a huge fan of either one of them. John Adams is my favorite founding father; he was an abolitionist, when being an abolitionist was rare and unpopular. Some of the things I’ve read about Washington and Jefferson leave me feeling they are over-glorified, but that is irrelevant because it’s private. The public thinking of Washington and Jefferson are of the ideals of America, that’s what they represent in the public view. That matters.

If this all sounds too arbitrary, I’ll invite you down a second rabbit-hole and answer the Who’s next question. As a childhood fan of Cleveland’s baseball team, I’ve had a challenging relationship with that team’s name and especially its mascot. I stopped wearing the hat, but it was only after I spent a few hours reading studies that I finally committed to Change the name, change the mascot. In brief, scientific study shows that the image of a caricature of a minority groups decreases a person’s sensitivity to all minority groups. How do they know? They have questions that reveal that sensitivity level and ask them to two groups, one that receives a primer of a Chief Wahoo image and one that receives a neutral image. They’ve studied this backwards and forwards. They’ve had to because the results get mostly ignored. And when Native Americans see the image, they score lower on levels of self-esteem. This is a group of people with much higher suicide rates. They even went so far as to select Native Americans who claim to not be bothered by the Chief Wahoo image being used for Cleveland’s baseball team and those people still scored lower on self-esteem after being primed by the image.

I’ve never gone down the rabbit-hole on the effect of seeing the Confederate flag. It would surprise me if the findings weren’t similar to the numerous studies corroborating this effect from seeing the Chief Wahoo image. I brought it up to illustrate the point that the argument that people finding something offensive is their problem because to the person wearing that shirt or flying that flag or putting that statue on a pedestal the image means something else is null and void. Symbols don’t work like that.

Why ‘I don’t usually get political but’ should be cut from political posts

There is a quote I like to apply broadly to life: “My vocabulary is perfect. Yours is either deficient or pretentious.”

It’s sarcastic, but makes the point that we tend to get fixated on ourselves and forget that other people have reached different conclusions about how to live, the words people choose to use being just one example. Do some people, sometimes, intentionally use 50 cent words to appear impressive? Sure. Are some people’s vocabularies so deficient they’re poor communicators? Also sure. Our current president’s limited vocabulary is a legitimate concern. He uses words like “great” and “terrible” and fails to articulate to the extent that people don’t know where he stands on important policy issues. We can change the quote to “I post about politics at the correct times. Other people either post too often about things that aren’t that important or they fail to post when they should.”

I’ve been told to my face that all I ever post about is how much I hate Trump. (Kind of jokingly but there’s a little truth in every joke.) First of all, that’s not accurate. That’s an impression someone’s formed whose thinking matches the point that quote illustrates. People don’t really know why I post what I post, so their guesses about my motivations say more about them than me. I’m probably like most people who lean left, I posted a handful of times my concerns about Trump and my support of Clinton leading up to the election. I didn’t want to make a contentious political season any more contentious than it already was. I expected Clinton to win and for the country to heal from the stress of an election season. Then Trump won and besides being deeply upset, I felt deeply guilty. I didn’t have a Clinton/Kaine sign in my yard to counter the Trump/Pence one across the street. I didn’t have a Clinton/Kaine bumper sticker on my car. So I decided I wanted to be more involved. I made an effort to get to the Women’s March in Washington D.C. I ended up at the Cleveland Women’s March instead. And I’ve been posting my thoughts and opinions more freely than I’m comfortable posting them.

I don’t expect to be hailed for pushing out of my comfort zone and posting more about politics, but I also get the sense that those of us posting about Trump are viewed as being bitter about the election or cynical or intentionally obnoxious. If a post is obnoxious to someone that doesn’t mean that the person who made the post was trying to be obnoxious. That’s essentially what “I don’t usually get political but” is trying to convey, that I’m not one of those obnoxious types who post about politics to be obnoxious, I have a genuine opinion I feel is important enough to share. It’s the equivalent of saying, “I don’t usually use 50 cent words but I’m about to use one but I’m not like the pretentious “other people” who use them.

If Trump has crossed a new line that motivates you to post about him, if it’s the banning transgender people from military service that’s done it, then welcome. Share that opinion. But why separate yourself from those of us who had that same reaction to Trump at an earlier point and made that same decision to put ourselves out there, just at a different time? Because there’s someone else who’s still going to judge you for putting your opinion out there, now. “I don’t usually get political but” isn’t going to spare you that judgment.

That judgment is deeply flawed anyway. When I approach any situation that involves other people, I’m always, subconsciously or consciously, well or poorly, evaluating how I choose to behave with how my behavior will affect other people. I don’t intentionally choose to act in ways that will annoy other people, but I also don’t allow other people to control my behavior to a degree that makes me uncomfortable. Well or poorly, I put that thinking behind every post I make. I try to assume other people do, as well. I’ll assume you did if you cut the “I don’t usually get political but” from the beginning of your post and just share your opinion.

What Makes Us Girls

Young girls mature into women under the male gaze. This probably feels like intense scrutiny, how much so and what influence this has on ego development will vary widely, but this isn’t an experience men have with anything close to the same degree or frequency. Lana del Rey writes from the perspective of someone affected by an especially piercing male gaze. This is my interpretation.

Watch me in the swimming pool, watch me in the classroom, bathroom, slipping on my red dress, putting on my make-up

The lyrics partly stand out because I know my niece is a fan. For Christmas, she got me a copy of Honeymoon. It felt a little odd to get a CD with a Parental Advisory Explicit Content warning on the cover from my fifteen-year-old niece, but I love that she’s a fan. Because Lana del Rey’s song lyrics I find troubling don’t offend me, they don’t make me like her less, and they don’t make me think she would be a bad influence on my niece. Her lyrics aren’t misogynist, they wouldn’t be if I wrote them; they reflect the misogyny still influencing us. They’re insights, whether through characters, her author persona, or her personal reflections, into how misogyny potentially affects young women.

The last track of Born to Die particularly makes me think of my niece listening, “This is What Makes Us Girls.”

Sweet sixteen and we had arrived, walking down the street as they whistle hi hi

They feel they’ve “arrived” at the age of sixteen and the confirmation of their arrival is being cat-called on the street. But the line I find haunting is: running from the cops in our bright bikini tops, screaming ‘get us while we’re hot, get us while we’re hot.’

Get us
While we’re hot

They’re running from cops but the subtext is hard to ignore. They’re perceiving of themselves as objects under men’s gazes, being wanted gotten, aware, already, that these same men think of them as having a brief shelf life of ‘being hot.” What makes them girls is this common experience. I hope my niece grows up with that influence feeling less pronounced, but I don’t see any drawback in her being exposed to honest writing from someone who seems to have grown into a woman with that influence pronounced. It can only broaden her life perspective and if she does identify it will help her feel less alone. My niece is probably never going to choose to share with Uncle Greg her experience of becoming a woman under the male gaze and it’s not a subject I can broach with her, but she knows I like Lana del Rey, so maybe she thinks her uncle Greg gets it. Maybe one day she’ll read this blog and know I’m on her side.

How we got here with health care

I was seventeen when I had my first brain surgery. I’m an extremely lucky unlucky person because my issue was easily fixed with “a machine,” really a shunt, that I just had to trust to keep working. I got to leave the hospital to live as a healthy person, but I have a vivid memory of my doctor telling me to get a job with a big company and be sure to keep it.

At the time, I had no intention of building a life around making sure I maintained health care coverage. I mostly forgot about the machine that kept me alive. Then I got a nagging headache and my health history came back to mind. I decided I better pick up health insurance. The preliminary information some company sent me had a list of ailments and mine was on there, so I called and asked what that meant. I would go into the high-risk pool. My health insurance would cost close to two-thousand dollars a month. That headache turned out to be nothing, but my life plan of not building a life around maintaining health insurance went mostly out the window. Since then I’ve worked for two big companies and stressed about maintaining the average hours necessary to stay on their health care plans, which wasn’t always easy and would have been impossible if I’d had a condition that caused me to miss work. I’m a lucky unlucky person.

I was a naïve kid when that doctor told me to get a job with a big company and keep it. What he was essentially saying was that I’d better be careful because I’m going to turn out more expensive than I’m worth. He was right. My various insurance companies have spent way more on me than they’ve gotten back in premiums paid by me and my employers. But I’ve helped. What people who haven’t been sick probably don’t know is how much of the burden of paying for health care falls on the sick. My brain machine broke on separate occasions six months apart but on separate calendar years. I paid my maximum annual deductible both times, at that time $5,000, for a total of $10,000, out of my pocket.

The easy scapegoat is insurance companies, certainly where I directed my ire for many years, but insurance companies are just forced to maximize profit, like every other company. The problem is capitalism. Fitting health care into a capitalist system is like putting your washing machine under the cupboards above the kitchen counter where the microwave goes. The pressure has been mounting for decades in the form of rising premiums and more cost put on the sick. There is something synergistically devastating about being sick and getting the mail and finding bill after bill that you don’t know how to pay. There are people who stop taking the care because they don’t want to face the bills. Some of them risk stroke by not taking prescribed blood thinners, others just let themselves get sicker and sicker and then die.

The Affordable Care Act, also known as “Obamacare,” didn’t solve all these problems. It wasn’t perfect, but it improved the situation by getting health insurance to a record number of Americans. These are all people who, when they get sick, are now able to go to the doctor and not the ER, which costs more money for worse long-term care that has to be covered by all of us. The claim by the GOP is that the American Health Care Act will give more choice to Americans but if you look at the details its real aim is just to fall back on the old way of hiding the problems with our health care system by leaving them for the sick minority to worry about. One of the details that stuck out to me in the new plan is a projected sixty percent hike in what insured people who get sick will have to cover themselves. The “death spiral” Paul Ryan always says “Obamacare” was in, even though the CBO reported it was not in a “death spiral,” is expected to hit especially older Americans most likely to need care. People sixty-years-old would be forced to spend half of what they make on premiums, which means they’ll forego coverage. Our ERs will have to accommodate that. People will get worse care at ERs at a higher cost that will be covered by everyone else when they can’t pay all so that a tiny percentage of the richest Americans can receive tax breaks.

The hunting and gathering days often get romanticized. When a member of a tribe, family to many of the rest of the tribe, got sick and couldn’t hunt, the tribe shared. They expected that member would get better and be back to helping the tribe and when someone else got sick the help he or she gave would be returned. Some members of these tribes were surely wounded or sick past being able to return to help hunt. That’s when human empathy kicked in. The human instinct to sacrifice to give aid but there are other human instincts like greed and selfishness. Sometimes those instincts won out. Some of these injured or sick ancient peoples were almost surely dragged out of the village and left for dead. If the countries of the world are the different villages and communities of ancient days, America is lagging in accepting the challenge of committing to caring for everyone who is a member of our village. The passage of the Affordable Care Act was a step in the right direction. The GOP’s bill is going backwards, leaving more of the sick to die unnecessarily.

The Electoral College Should Vote Clinton over Trump because They Can

Clinton won the popular vote. Trump’s supporters’ constant reminders about the Electoral College are designed, whether consciously or not, to diminish the significance of Clinton winning the popular vote but it is significant. More people who voted wanted Clinton to be president. The Electoral College was probably never a perfect system, it was probably arrived at through a series of compromises among people all dead now to balance the voting in a country that looked much different. Now we have people who work for the same 10-20 companies in identical clusters of businesses in different states whose votes have more weight by a factor of as high as five. This made sense when some sparsely populated regions made up most of the nation’s farmers or plantation owners. (Remember, the South used to count slaves, considered property, as three-fifths of a person when figuring voting influence, so clearly this was being patched together as they went along.) It makes less sense now.

This isn’t enough to seriously argue that the Electoral College vote in Clinton over Trump because that’s simply changing the rules after losing, but it’s all important context for the argument. Trump is a security risk to the nation. He is fragile and his response to feeling wounded is to attack. It appears to be his only move. His campaign demonstrated this but people still voted for him based on a combination of his lies and false promises and an attack on his opponent fueled largely by misinformation, we now know propagated, in part, by Russian interference. But here’s what Trump’s done since he became president-elect. He’s claimed he would have won the popular vote but for the millions of people in California who voted illegally. He stated this with no evidence. The CIA said they have overwhelming evidence that Russia tampered with the election to try to help him win, and Trump’s response was simply, no, they didn’t. We learned through his campaign that even little things that hurt his easily hurt feelings he claims are just made up. Now the stakes are higher. He is not holding up well to the pressure. And he’s falling back on his same character flaws and lashing out. Lashing out at the CIA of the country he’s about to lead. Again, with nothing but the fact that what they found hurt his feelings. People have said if his collusion with Russia could be proved that would be enough to prevent him taking office. Well, we all heard him tell Russia to hack Hillary Clinton’s emails. I have a friend that likes to say “Words are important.” People want to dismiss Trump’s outrageous comments as Trump being Trump. This is the president-elect. Why are we not holding him accountable? His responses are never measured, they’re all about how he feels, and that is a gigantic security risk. Numerous checks and balances are built into our government. The Electoral College is one of our protections. The Electoral College should recognize that Trump is unfit to be president. What’s missing is public support. Trump’s supporters are cheering themselves for their accomplishment of getting an anti-establishment candidate all the way to the presidency. They view the criticism of him as criticism of them and I’m sorry for that, but an honest evaluation of Trump needs to finally be done by the people who voted not for Trump but against Hillary. A president wins the presidency and becomes a civil servant. He or she may hold the highest office in the land but still serves the citizens—all of them. Trump serves only himself. People who begrudgingly voted for him need to admit that’s true and then voice it. We need them.

A Peaceful Exit

Mom made it easy for her doctors to deliver bad health news. I was with her on one of her scan days when her doctor had to tell her the treatments for her liver cancer weren’t helping. There was such care in the look on her face she gave him to ease his burden of informing her, probably the least favorite aspect of his job but also something he does frequently. She picked him up or she was picking her husband and me up. That was St. Patrick’s Day and on the way home we stopped at Mavis Winkle for dinner and then hit Steak and Shake for Shamrock shakes. I told her despite the bad news I enjoyed celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, and she said so did she.

The doctor offered her a next medication less likely to work and more likely to include side effects. She wanted opinions from all of us but promised to made her own decision. We didn’t give them lightly, not entirely sure our mother would be capable of deciding to discontinue treatment if her children and husband wanted her to continue. We were unanimous in wanting her to take the treatment which wouldn’t be a cure but might give her two or more years more of good quality of life. She seemed to be leaning that way, too. She wasn’t lucky, but she was a little lucky in that her first treatment made her sick but they were able to treat those symptoms and take her off the drug with limited, lingering effects.

We started planning final visits. My sisters and all their kids were out the Christmas before, expecting the possibility that it would be the last opportunity for a Christmas and New Year’s Day with her. They all came again in the summer. Mom worried she’d feel sick and that her illness would pervade and lead to a somber gathering, but she felt well enough or felt well enough to seem well enough that we had a wonderful visit. This is the visit that included the Yahtzee game where Mom scored a few points shy of the max possible in a game whose magic felt symbolic of our union, as you might imagine. (Sometimes real life resembles roll-your-eyes fiction.)

Mom gave these intensely sad goodbyes to things and then let them go. Places, first: a last Seattle trip took place in the fall, a last Florida visit in the spring. (My sisters’ homes) Mom’s basement steps were absent a handrail. We looked into putting one in. Mom was still walking pretty well but was just unsteady enough that I worried about her on those steps, but she didn’t want to give up washing clothes. I asked her not to go down alone at least until we got a handrail installed. But next time I came she had passed this chore on to her husband. She said she was done going into the basement.

Another weekend I was over, she asked me to move a chair up to her bedroom. She was already limiting trips up and down the steps in the house and knew she’d soon be done going down those stairs as well and would want to receive visitors from her bedroom. She worried her husband would, understandably, put off taking the chair up feeling like the action was moving us toward where we were going anyway. I was able to isolate these tasks. I could tell myself I was just taking a chair up to a bedroom. I almost took on the persona of a hired furniture mover to accomplish this. My next time over we spent all afternoon up in that room. We discussed spirituality, we looked at old pictures. She had me read a passage from a spiritual trilogy she’d been reading. It was a fictional account of the devil describing how he/she/it talks people out of a relationship with God. Starting with using atheism as a tool and progressing up using people’s religion against them. The essential point being that a relationship with God is the ultimate goal, religion being the tool. So the devil would keep people stuck at the tool stage. This being a Catholic book, the sort of top tier religion, in this devil’s mind, was Catholicism. So the interviewer’s last question was about how the devil managed to keep even Catholics from God. So the devil, who from the dialogue one got the sense had to wipe his horny brow, answers as though these Catholics are his greatest challenge. But gives the same answer about keeping them stuck in the tool stage.

So realizing my mother is weeks from death and spiritually preparing herself for a journey she would rather delay, is afraid of but is also partly excited for, I understand she’s just shared a passage with me because it meant a lot to her and while I mostly liked it, that bit about the Catholics being “a tough nut to crack,” which the devil actually said, in this fictional account, gave me a pretty significant eye roll moment I didn’t think I could leave out of my comments about the passage Mom was waiting for. I did think about it. But I told her the full truth. I told her that I liked it and the idea reminded me of Joseph Campbell but that the part about the devil treating Catholicism as nearly an invincibility shield against temptation seemed a bit much. She grinned. “Yeah, that got a little embarrassing.” We had several nice laughs about that.

When I left that day, I hugged her goodbye. As I was leaving her bedroom, she said, “Greg, this was so pleasant. This is just what I imagined it would be.” I looked forward to a repeat of that long afternoon but the next time I stopped over she spent most of the time asleep. I told her goodbye and she apologized for being so tired. I told her not to worry and get her rest and I would be back the next day. That weekend my one sister was flying in. Both my sisters had flown in since the family visit over the summer and visited with Mom sick but well enough to enjoy visiting. Really she never got too sick to enjoy visiting. They wanted to be there for the end. My other sister was planning to fly in early the next week but a hospice worker told me to have her come now.

Sunday morning Mom woke up wanting hugs. I went in to greet her and I asked her if I could get her anything. She said, “A hug.” I hugged her and asked her if I could get her anything else. She said, “I still need that hug.” I hugged her again. My sister came in for hugs and then she wanted her husband. We called him up. She said after repeat rounds of hugs, “I think I’m going to die today,” with a serene singsong intonation.

I told Mom I was leaving to pick her other daughter up from the airport. I followed up to see Mom’s face light up when she saw her. She was reasonably alert and coherent through the morning but slept through the afternoon and into the evening. I told my sisters mornings were best for catching her most alert. She spoke that next morning and even ate a little. The hospice nurse told us it could be that day or the next. By midmorning she had already slipped into that twilight mode, a combination of the morphine controlling her pain and the progression of her illness. That afternoon my sisters and I were all in the room with her. We’d all already told her goodbye, thanked her for being our mom, and given her permission to leave us. She’d given little indication of consciousness for some time. We had a portable CD player by her bed with her collection of Elvis Presley hymns. I played her favorite “In the Garden.” The three of us laid our hands on Mom, and Mom’s eyebrows lifted. They lifted and fell and lifted but the impression was that they kept lifting. She lightly moaned, a sound that didn’t seem pained and might have been her trying to speak, but she was done with words and we didn’t need any words. I put the hymn on repeat. I’m sure we were all crying and telling her goodbye and that we loved her and telling her it was okay for her to go, but my main memory is of her eyebrows, that illusion of them perpetually lifting.

We all went down to the family room, all of us except her husband who rarely left her side, for a break. Final moments aren’t exceptionally important. Mom felt us all with her and whether she died one moment or the next she was leaving this world with all the love in her life, which is really how it always happens. (Really death isn’t a happening at all, that’s a limitation of language.) Although I told my sisters that would have been perfect timing, had the end of her life coincided with one of those twenty-some repeats of her favorite hymn.

I found in Mom’s journal, from when she had lung cancer way back when her grandchildren were just babies, where she wrote that she hoped she was able to die as bravely and with as much dignity as her father. I hope she didn’t feel burdened by that hope. I told her many times I didn’t want her to feel like she had to be brave for us, but I don’t know that that would have stopped her. That evening, her labored breathing ceased, the quiet waking my one sister, who called me and my other sister up. Her husband said a prayer over her and we all cried and told her we loved her in case she was still there to hear us. It was very peaceful and a lovely memory. We were so well prepared. She prepared us so well, our mother.

Tweedledum or Tweedledee for President

The title of this post is meant to seem topical but I’m actually sneaking in a history lesson I learned from Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States. In the close election of 2000 that came down to Florida, Ralph Nader ran as a third-party candidate. His platform was that voting Democrat or Republican was a choice between Tweedledum or Tweedledee. He had a fairly successful showing as a third party candidate. Analysis after the voting showed had he not run, Gore would have had the votes to win Florida. However they figure these things out, whatever the margin of error, they don’t guess. Nader’s position that both candidates from the two major political parties are working for the system, just to varying degrees, is a common feeling among the population and why Nader got so many votes and probably why so many Americans don’t vote at all.

I immediately recalled a passage from earlier in the book that I copied out on a note card:

To give people a choice between two different parties and allow them, in a point of rebellion, to choose the slightly more democratic one was an ingenious mode of control. Like so much in the American system, it was not devilishly contrived by some master plotters; it developed naturally out of the needs of the situation.

This election year it looks like we’ll have two choices again. After strong runs from candidates with “anti-establishment” platforms, we’re left with the “anti-establishment” Republican and the Democrat who beat her “anti-establishment” opponent. We’re also left with Never Trump’s on the Republican side and Never Hilary’s on the Democrat side.

There is a saying in baseball: “You’re going to win sixty and lose sixty, it’s what you do with the other games that makes you a good team or a bad one.”

That’s kind of true without saying anything. What if you play really well for those other games but, oops, lose forty of your sixty you were going to win? They say every election year that the undecided voters will swing the election based on what they decide. That’s also kind of true without saying anything. This year the election will be decided by how many of the Never Trump’s vote for Trump and how many of the Never Hilary’s vote for Hilary. Again, kind of true without saying anything.

If it’s accurate that the two party system is used as a mode of control, and Howard Zinn certainly made a great case for it being true all throughout American history, then I guess it’s cool Trump made it as the Republican nominee and I do think it’s cool how far Bernie made it. My question for the Tweedledee or Tweedledum contingent is, do we want this to be the election year we break out of that mode of control? By writing in Bernie or refusing to vote if Hilary or Trump is the only choice. Is that mode of control something we can realistically break out of through a single election?

If the two-party system developed naturally as a mode of control then it developed as a result of pressures and it’s those pressures that need addressed before the two-party system can be abandoned. Gary Johnson might have some great qualities that would make him a great president but most of us don’t know about them. He feels picked out of a hat. Clinton or Trump will be the next president. Voting for a third-party candidate is one path to fighting out of our two-party system but it’s not the only path and it, alone, won’t be effective. I would rather see people accept the two-party system for this election and then begin the next day campaigning for a way out of that system. This election is too important.

This election might be closer than anyone expects and what I’m hearing is people working really hard to hate Clinton enough to rationalize voting in Trump. I liken it to hiring someone for a job. You have their resumes and an interview process. Clinton’s resume includes being a senator and the Secretary of State, which is fourth in line for the presidency. Trump inherited a fortune and invested it in questionable business ventures, many of which failed, and starred on NBC’s The Apprentice. Their respective campaigns have been the interview process. Does anyone think Trump has been nailing his interview portion or Clinton failing hers enough to make up for that giant, very real gap in employment history?

Of course no one does. Trump’s supporters are people who will vote for him because of that resume which proves, to them, he won’t be “more of the same.” What will he be instead? How many of them are looking that far?

“Politics as usual” is another vague criticism we use. A criticism of a system clogged up by too many pressures to be fixed by plugging in one “anti-establishment” participant, even if placed at the highest position in the country. Clinton’s resume might make her seem like “more of the same,” but it also shows a track record of experience with diplomacy. Trump’s approach, his only play, which he’s consistently demonstrated through this interview process, to other people who don’t think exactly like him—basically everyone he’ll deal with as our primary representative to other countries—is to lash out. That might sound like toughness to unsophisticated voters who actually consider “closing our borders” an option in an age when borders are more and more an illusion, but it could bring us to the brink of war.

And unsophisticated isn’t an insult, I guess it’s an opinion, but voters who are hearing “Benghazi” and “emails” and deciding from those buzz words without any independent research that those words prove Clinton can’t be trusted and that Trump would be a better choice as our next president fit the description pretty well. We’re all relatively unsophisticated voters because we have hundreds of concerns beyond politics, which makes us easy to manipulate, but this election will be decided by the people still working hard to think Trump is okay enough to elect because of a hatred of Hilary Clinton that feels largely manufactured.

I haven’t even touched, yet, on the effect misogyny will have on this election but I will. For me, “I wouldn’t mind a woman president but not this woman,” is the new “I’m not racist but…” almost always followed by something racist. I’m not accusing anyone of blatant misogyny but anyone not admitting our history of misogyny is gumming up their decision making in this election would probably benefit from a little reflection on how a woman is being perceived by all of us for daring to want to be president. Ambition would never be quite the mark against her that it is if she weren’t a her.

In this book I’m reading about John Adams, John Adams, a political life was considered service to the country. Adams didn’t want to go to France as a diplomat but when he was sent he went. I admit that was a different time. After his presidency Adams returned to his farm and struggled to make a living. These days politicians acquire significant wealth. Yet we have to count what she has given as service. In this age, to be travelling the globe as Secretary of State, she assumed a great deal of risk. From my admittedly little research on Benghazi, she was one of many responsible people who failed to address security opportunities there before a terrorist attack. Probably everywhere could benefit from increased security in this age of terrorism, but beefing up security everywhere isn’t possible. We offer soldiers slack in incidents of fratricide because we recognize they’ve put themselves in tough situations at great risk to themselves and we honor that commitment to their country. I think it’s reasonable to put Hilary Clinton in that category. Certainly it’s unfair to put all our country’s foreign policy errors on her and use them to prop up a candidate whose personal history demonstrates he’s cared about little else than his own wealth and fame, for all his life.

I want to cover everything in one post so I can have my views expressed. Whatever I say or don’t say, the outcome will be the same. This is for my peace of mind, and I love everyone who’s read this far. Trump has said terrible things. He makes sometimes the oddest, almost surreal, attempts to backpedal on them without apologizing for them but they’re all real, they’re all his words. Maybe the oddest part about his debate performance was when he genuinely seemed hurt that Clinton attacked him in her ads. “I don’t deserve that,” he said at one point, but the “attack” ads I’ve seen are all just Clinton airing Trump’s words.

Running for president is viewed as a farce, to many. We think of politicians as people who just try to say, over the course of their lives, things that will make them electable. I get that. It’s glad-handing obnoxiousness, it feels insincere, but the opposite of that as the next leader of our country isn’t some guy who’s been on Howard Stern and talked, on air, about how disgusting overweight women are. We can imagine the glad-handing obnoxious woman who’s dared to want to be president, maybe most of her life, isn’t who she’s portraying herself to be, but it’s a much better bet that the obnoxious man who has spent his life trying to use his inherited wealth to accrue more wealth (and largely failed) at the expense of anyone and everyone under him, who is willing to insult anyone and everyone if it will win him a moment’s air time on TV, who is playing to the unsophisticated faction of the country who imagine walls and xenophobia are easy answers, is exactly who he’s been all along.

It would feel pessimistic to end this post with Trump being the reason I’m voting for Clinton, though he’s more than reason enough, in my mind. I’m not a huge Hilary Clinton proponent. I expect the only president I will ever admire and want to have a beer with is about to step down after his two terms. But I think Hilary Clinton will make a good president. I think she will emulate her successor more than her husband. I think she wants to be a good president more than she’s arrogant and simply expects to be a good one. She cares what everyone thinks of her, which is a quality we want our president to have. She doesn’t just support The Affordable Care Act but plans to improve it. I could write a whole blog about how the idea we can keep getting by without a single-payer health care system is a lie perpetrated by the people who reap huge profits by our lack of one, while the sick can’t receive proper healthcare and so, sometimes, die. (I actually already did write that blog.)

She has experience and she’s learned from her experience. She has reasonable potential to be a good president. She’s not a bad choice just like the other, no matter how hard anyone works to view her that way.

Pre-Grief

Is pre-grief a thing? My sisters and I wondered this many times over the last year plus. We weren’t always sleeping well. We were stressed out; at times, unhappy. I would tell them we were pre-grieving, we were beginning the work that would lead to our acceptance of our mother’s death and her return to us in memory. Then I would realize I was guessing. Maybe the actual event of her death would bring that same acute pain of grief we remembered from our father’s death.

Probably too soon to tell but dreams are a great insight into how you’re feeling. My one sister and I both had recurring dreams of our father, corpse-like, wandering around and seeming not to know he had died. In one of mine, someone down the road was shooting off fireworks. My dad and I got into his truck to drive down to watch. I turned to him in the passenger seat and had to break it to him. “Dad, you can’t go. You’re dead.”

I wasn’t telling him, I was telling me.

I only cried once over my mom in pre-grief, after watching Inside Out, but I cried a lot after she died. I cried but I slept pretty well. I ate fine. I had my normal appetite, which I didn’t have after my dad died. Three nights in a row I’ve dreamed of my mom. She is her usual, cheerful, helpful self in my dreams. She had an opportunity my dad didn’t have to prepare to die, to prepare her loved ones for her death, and to say and hug us goodbye. She had that opportunity but she chose to use it and she gets the lion’s share of the credit (i.e., all of the credit) for any early peace we’re experiencing at her loss.

Love You Mom!

Mother died today. Or it might have been yesterday. I only don’t know because right now I’m enjoying morning coffee with her while she receives therapy from one of her Hospice nurses. I’m preparing this blog ahead of time linking some of the blog posts I’ve made over the many months since her diagnosis of terminal liver cancer. Months we’ve managed, following her lead, to make the most of. Sharing her through my writing is likely to be my path through grief.

I’ll link them short to long. If you feel like reading any, please do. I’m grateful for your thoughts, your comments, and your time.

1. Compiling A Reading List I Hope not to get to soon

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2016/01/07/compiling-a-rereading-list-i-hope-not-to-get-to-soon/

2. Awakenings

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2015/11/19/awakenings/

3. Dreaming of A Living Funeral

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2015/01/08/dreaming-of-a-living-funeral/

4. Bulk Popcorn

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2014/12/13/bulk-popcorn/

5. Hearts Connected by String

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2014/12/01/hearts-connected-by-string/

7. Integrating Sadness and Joy:

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2016/01/29/integrating-sadness-and-joy/

8. Scan Day:

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2016/02/02/scan-day/

9. Keeping An Eye on Her Grandchildren

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2013/04/30/keeping-an-eye-on-grandchildren/

10. This post I wrote about my father four years after he died:

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2014/10/01/four-years-today-thank-you-for-reading/

11. My Mother’s Simons:

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2016/05/06/my-mothers-simons/

12. Yahtzee:

https://myfreesentences.wordpress.com/2016/06/04/yahtzee/