Category Archives: Americana

Veterans Day

Americana, Politics, War

Korean War Memorial at the western end of the National Mall, Washington DC       

Washington is full of war memorials; it makes me sad that there are so many. On the east end of the Mall, is the The Ulysses S. Grant Memorial  facing toward the Lincoln Memorial at the west end. They unite the Mall like they united the country. In between are newer monuments: World War II, The Korean Conflict – named Conflict or Police Action so Congress didn’t have to vote for it – The Vietnam War. We are becoming an Empire, filling our capitol with memorials to our distant, empirical, wars.

It is nice we honor our Veterans – I am a Veteran and am proud of it, maybe too much at times, considering that I have never heard a shot fired in anger – but I fear that the Honoring is covering up national policies we shouldn’t have. I fear that the Honoring is covering up the debate and discussion on whether we should even be fighting these wars. I fear that the Honoring is covering up our neglect of the shattered bodies and psyches that are the waste products of these empirical wars.

In all the wars, in each war, young men and, now, women – or old boys and, now girls,  depending on your point of view – have been sent to distant places by old men to kill people whose names they don’t know and, in most cases, can pronounce. They are sent to places we don’t really know or understand. It is not making us great, it is not making us rich, it is not making us safe.

Obama, race, extremism, and stupidity

Americana, Politics

I was surprised at the racism in this election. I have been surprised and disturbed at the increasing reveal of racism over the last four years, mostly by people trying to appeal to Republicans, and – now,  in the end, when the ballots have been counted – I am surprised and delighted that it didn’t hurt the President. Ironically, the racism seemed to have hurt the Republicans.

We all know the guy above is a ___fill in the blank again__. Even he knows it, as he stands there, staring into the close distance, looking at nothing, just being aware of the camera behind him. My question is Why did he do it? Why did he put that shirt on and go out in public? Why did he even buy that shirt? I guess that it is possible he is so tired of his life not working that he is finally wants to yell out his truth. His life is not his fault, it’s the black president’s fault giving all his black friends all the goodies . Maybe he thought most of us would secretly agree.

Before the election, I thought I hope he is wrong, but I am not as sure as I was four years ago. The election proved him – and me – wrong. Sure, there are racists out there, but not enough to overturn a black president whose pitch was What I am doing may not be working – yet – and hasn’t lived up to my promises, but it will and I need to be reëlected to finish the job. This was not the magic Negro promising Change, this was – in most American’s opinion – a steady, competent  guy trying to dig us out of a hole. A guy who just happened to be black and it didn’t really seem to matter.

Most of us reconized the passive- aggressiveism of Romney dickishly saying When the world needs to do really good stuff, you need an American. while pretending it was not about race, and it ended up hurting Romney more than it hurt Obama. Not with people who really did think he was born in Kenya, I guess, but with most voters (66,882,230 and counting). I can understand that the guy in the picture is too stupid to realize that he is hurting what I presume is his cause (getting Obama out of office). But I found it harder to believe that Romney is that stupid – I know, the proof is in the fact that he actually did make that statement – and I wonder why he made it. I wonder what he was thinking when he included you need an American in his speech.

When I read about Republicans cutting back on early voting, eliminating Take Your Souls to the Polls Sunday in Florida, making picture IDs mandatory to vote, and just generally harassing black voters, it scared me. I had forgotten that these were people who – just sixty years ago – were willing to die to get the vote (and, don’t forget, some did). The harassers must have forgotten that too, and they must have been shocked that all their harassment just increased the turnout against them.

I went to bed Tuesday night feeling great about America. An America, it turns out, that is becoming as inclusive and welcoming as I had dreamed it would be.

 

 

The debate

Americana, Politics

Michele and I watched the debate with two guys that love politics and we fell into rooting like we were at a football game. So my perception may be flawed, but it seemed to me that Obama was having a better time than Romney. A more fun time (we thought he crossed over into arrogant once when he kept talking way past the shut-off point and we all started yelling Shut-up, you’re winning). He seems to have found a more presidential zone and his lecture to Romney on Benghazi seemed especially powerful to me.

And, then of course, Romney said Women in Binders. Eerily enough I totally understand what Romney means just like I did when he said The trees are the right height. It is not where I don’t like Romney, but this time I recognized Women in Binders was going to be a big deal. What I didn’t expect was a Tumblr on it (mostly because I don’t really understand Tumblr).

The long way home

Americana, Travel

 

Coming back from Boise was the trip going in reverse except that the views and sightlines are all 180° off so that it is really never the same trip. I might not be the best authority on this, however, as Michele and I have driven across Nevada – probably – more than 20 times and, to me, it never seems the same. And all the trips are great, but maybe, it is an acquired taste. One trip, I remember, it was snowing – but right on the edge of the freezing line – for the whole trip which meant that every mountain pass had wet snow and every valley was misty rain (except for worrying about what the weather would be like in Utah – our destination – the trip, ensconced in our heated car, was magic).

The Owyhee Mountains seemed much more mountain like this time around and, what seemed like richer farms and ranches coming in, now seemed poor.

After the oasis of Boise with its soft green-ness, even the green floodlands of the Owyhee River seemed lost in the endless, late summer, Dry.

As we drive through the high desert, watching it float by us as if on TV, we chat and joke, we listen to Eileen’s iPhone music collection, we sense, more than hear the ever present car noise. But, when we stop, when we get out of the car, it is a deep quiet.   In Scenes in America Deserta, Reyner Banham talks about the silence of Drylands, Silence  heat and light. The silence flowed back around us, like a filling pool, as I switched off the engine of the car….In Basin and Range, John McPhee quotes Freeman Dyson It is a soul-shattering silence. You hold your breath and hear absolutely nothing….You are alone with God in that silence. We weren’t alone, and our chatter followed us out of the car when we stopped; but the background silence was always there. One one stop, Eileen and I took pictures of each other, and I think Eileen’s better captures the silence and immensity of the space.

At one point, as we drive along, I watch a truck – on a parallel road but in a life sharply divergent from ours – throw-up a dust trail. It starts me  thinking about how hard it would be to sneak up on somebody out here. We left Boise after lunch and now the sun is getting low as we get close to Winnemucca and the Interstate. The mountains are soft in the fading light and we start thinking about where we will have dinner in Reno (a Thai restaurant south of the airport won) .

To be continued….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

was

While we were in Boise

Americana, Travel

 

Boise is a shock of green after hours of driving through miles of sun-bleached-beige drylands. Especially at Ophelia and Peter’s home which is near the Boise River (not the Snake River as some, sometimes, tend to mis-identify it.

 

In the green and the softness of Boise’s early fall afternoons, it is also a little shocking to a coastal Californian that – shocking in the morning when we go outside, that is – that it had frozen the night before.  But, by mid afternoon when we went over to see Peter and Ophelia’s grandkids and grand chickens, it was short sleeve shirt weather.

While we were Boise, in the outside world, the tide turned against Lance Armstrong, one of the Pussy Rioters was released from prison, and, contrary to my prediction, Obama was hit hard in the poles over the debate. Each thing was sort of shocking to me and each was, really, already there.

In a way, in the back of my mind where I am not paying much attention, I have known for a while that Armstrong was doing something. Winning seven times is a lot and the were growing rumors that he was doping, or juicing, or whatever is the proper term. But the magnitude of the whole thing, the amount of evidence, the casualness of it all that is just now coming out, is still shocking.

And what is it with the russian courts? It turns out that Yekaterina Samutsevich wasn’t even in the cathedral for the hooliganization for which she was convicted. So a higher court suspended her sentence. To an American mind, in my mind, it seems that she is either guilty or she should be let go. That she is innocent but we will still call you semi-guilty is bizarre. But, then, I have no idea about how any Russian court should work.

And coming back to the reality of post vacation news – in the post debate polls – to find Obama trailing is very shocking. I think that, with Romney gaining stature by being on stage with the President, that he , Romney, came across less evil than he had been painted by the Obama ads. But, in a way, he has always been personable. That is his schick. Somehow Romney was able to pull off the slight of hand of announcing a goal – reducing the national debt, for example – being the the same as actually having a policy.

Driving to Boise took most of a day and driving home was the same, so our time enjoying the warmth and camaraderie of our little group was very short. Soon it was time to wave goodbye and get back on the road.