Category: 2021

Dolphin News

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“We’re number one! Pretense is gone; the humans are gone.”

Atlantic Ocean- It became official this afternoon with the death of Byron Chase, the eleven-year-old from Middletown, Rhode Island. Dolphins are the apex of intelligence on planet Earth. Following millennia of dominance (and arrogance), humans became extinct today. Famous for their technological advances and equally noted for their ferocity, humans perished in the relative flick of a flipper following their mishandling of the coronavirus.

Before official celebrations begin, let us take a moment to recount the passing of humans. The coronavirus started in 2019 and quickly spread to an unsuspecting populace, racing around the globe ignoring human governmental delineation lines or, as they called them, “countries.” As air breathers, humans found that the virus spread through particulate exhaled through their dual respiratory system of nose and mouth from one human to another. Their most educated in medicine and science determined fabric placed in front of these orifices would reduce the expectorant sprayed. However, it quickly became evident that a significant portion of the population decided their “internet” research, and graduation from the “school of hard knocks” placed them on par with the physicians and scientists. Unfortunately, this misstep began the fatal infection and death toll culminating in the loss of young Mr. Chase.

When physicians and scientists created a vaccine to save humanity, only a portion of them chose to receive the gift. Remote areas or areas without the infrastructure to distribute vaccines could not be protected. In affluent “countries” (especially the United States), a portion of their populace simply chose not to become inoculated, leading to the rapid progression of virus variants. These mutations rapidly spread throughout the unvaccinated populations leading the strained medical system to collapse.

The execution of Anthony Fauci, MD, in January of 2022, following the rise of Republicans and their control of both the House of Representatives and the United States Senate in the midterm elections, tripped the switch for so many in the medical field. His court conviction of “treason,” as read out by new Speaker of the House (and former President) Donald J. Trump led swiftly to Fauci’s execution on pay-per-view television on Fox News on the National Mall (and sponsored by Trump 2024, the Republican National Committee, and Brandon Funeral Home and Crematorium).

Immediately after this telecast, seemingly overnight, physicians, nurses, scientists, and hospital staff failed to show up to work, their homes abandoned, and their cars were gone. No record of them was ever found. There have long been rumors of them escaping to an Ayn Randian panacea of intellectuals. However, any enclaves discovered were quickly shut down and merged with those in hospital intensive care wards. Forced to live among the unvaccinated and infected, the professional staff and their families, without the protection of masks or air filtration of any kind, saw their ranks dwindle and succumb to the virus.

It appears that most of the unvaccinated, despite cognitive awareness (and mirrors), were unaware of the two methods of respiration. Countless depictions were seen in grocery stores, airports, and even hospitals, of humans begrudgingly wearing a mask somewhat over their mouth but hanging well below their noses. It remains a mystery how all humans did not understand the basics of tidal breathing.

The collapse of the medical system accelerated the demise of humans in late 2022 with the rise of the newest variant. No longer following the Greek alphabet to name variants, because, as Speaker Trump said, “This is America, and that’s all Greek to me,” the new variant was simply called the Newest-er China (Jina) Virus.

Manufacturers could no longer produce vaccine boosters with the elimination of physicians and scientists, and there was no one left to administer them. Chief Medical Officer Joe Rogan declared vaccines unnecessary because he believed that getting (and surviving) the virus gave you better protection. It was never fully explained how, in a chicken and the egg scenario, one was to be protected from the virus before contracting it if one had to contract it to be protected. Mr. Rogan died shortly after that when a dumbbell crushed his skull while exercising in his garage.

You will recall Vice President Ted Cruz and Secretary of Health and Some Human Services Rand Paul held the great mask burning bonfire on the National Mall leading to the conflagration that burned most of downtown Washington, DC. It was then, with most of the congress choking on the smoldering smoke, that democrats met to decide whether to create an online petition to discuss thinking about maybe considering a proclamation to create a list of possible strongly worded Tweets. However, it was ultimately killed, both by the passing of most democrats to the virus and then-Senator Joe Manchin of West Virginia, who said, “The use of certain words being considered in the possible Tweets were problematic.” Senator Manchin later died choking on his words. Vice President Cruz died onboard a plane when his wife beat him to death for a perceived slight made years earlier. Their flight to Cancun turned around for the funeral. Mr. Paul, a physician, died of an overdose of injected sunlight and bleach.

Death followed political affiliations and geographic voting patterns. The United States seemed to die from the inside out, beginning with the farmland and “true Americans” living away from the coasts. These mostly unvaccinated humans grew much of the food for the remaining American humans, and when they died, food became scarce. Coastal cities began rationing, and then, armed with righteous indignation and bibles, those remaining inland humans, self-titled “patriots,” shot and killed most of the coastal dwellers in a purge so fast there was neither resistance nor anyone remaining to call it a civil war. No charges were filed against anyone. Indeed, many of the killers were active military, law enforcement, or hunters dressed in camouflage to blend in with the steel and glass of downtown cities.

However, this purge was short-lived as the food supply dwindled and the virus ran unchallenged. Church services increased, eventually being mandated by Speaker Trump, who famously held up a bible (upside down) in front of a Taco Bell in West Palm Beach this past December. Evangelicals were on hand to wipe his mouth of drool and ketchup, genuflecting and chanting while supplicating themselves to the rotund man with the kelp-like hair. Mr. Trump died later that month trying to cough up a chicken wing. All three (recognized) Trump children, Eric, Don Jr., and Ivanka, were buried (alive) with Mr. Trump. Don Jr. was tied to his father’s corpse on his left side, Eric on his right side, and according to Mr. Trump’s wishes, Ivanka on top. Melania Trump was not in attendance for the funeral and was last seen running in Manolo heals out of the city wearing her “I really don’t care, do u?” jacket.

The remaining survivors died quickly after that, either through gunshots or the virus. The remaining portions of the world promptly claimed global dominance, primarily China. However, either through official public malpractice (or willful ignorance), mask and vaccine intransigence among portions of the populace, or geographic remoteness, the population of humans failed. Mr. Chase’s passing marks the end of all humans.

Reaction among the remaining mammals was met with applause and marked trepidation. Humans leave a rapidly warming planet through their inaction on climate change (and partially due to their arrogance and hubris). This intrepid dolphin is eager to explore areas of the ocean previously too cold (or dry) to inhabit. However, this enthusiasm is tempered by the ecological food chain collapse rising temperatures have set off. It is too early to tell whether the planet will survive.

This is a developing story. Check back later for further updates.

Sunshine

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We are a broken nation. Short of another insurrection, we are living in a cold civil war. One side is armed with guns, bullets, and hatred. The other side is armed with reason, truth, and awe at the dissension one man (Trump) could release. Republicans will win at any cost, including the nation’s destruction, if it means Democrats win a skirmish. Democrats eat their own and want a group hug with Republicans.

It is difficult to find the silver lining, the momentary oasis from hatred and paralysis during these times. It is hard to imagine “normal” life existing outside our echo chambers. Stochastic terrorism and dog whistles from the right. Infighting and inertia on the left. However, I found it about six months ago.

While scrolling through the division and vitriol on Twitter, I came across a neuroscientist at Concordia University in Montreal. Yes, Canada, where stereotypes abound of civility and courtesy. Dr. Nadia Chaudhri posted about a fundraiser she had organized, called the Nadia Chaudhri Wingspan Award. It awarded scholarships for minority and historically marginalized students in neuroscience. It was inspiring to see in the age of Black Lives Matter, Oscar’s so White, and other diversity and inclusion awareness campaigns.

Dr. Chaudhri was more than a neuroscientist and associate professor. She was also a wife and mother. And she was Pakistani. Born in Karachi, she attended Franklin & Marshall College in Pennsylvania on a full scholarship, becoming the first woman to win the Williamson Medal for outstanding academic and extracurricular achievement. She earned a Ph.D. from the University of Pittsburg and was a postdoctoral fellow at the University of San Francisco. She was also dying of ovarian cancer at age 43.

As we whittle our list of “acceptable” people with whom we agree on everything, it became clear reading Dr. Chaudhri’s tweets that she was a tireless advocate for the Wingspan Award and an incredibly loving wife and mother. Living in Canada didn’t matter. Being from Pakistan didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was a good person. She was just a good person trying to do the best she could for those she cared about in an impossible situation. I never met her, but she was a good person. And that mattered. I enjoyed reading her tweets about her husband Moni (who she called her Moon) and her son (who she called her Sun).

When the chemotherapy no longer worked and the clinical trials failed her, she tweeted that she was entering the inpatient palliative care program at McGill University’s Health Centre and was meeting with her six-year-old son to tell him she was dying. Yes, memories flooded my brain of my late wife and I having that discussion with our children, but I wept for her, her son, and her husband. My son is getting married in a couple of weeks, and my daughter is recently engaged. I cried because I knew her young son would have to enjoy his significant life events without his mother there just as mine have.

She continued to raise money for the Wingspan Award by having people sponsor her to shuffle through the palliative care ward each day. She posted them on Twitter. As her Twitter account swelled, so too did the donations. She raised over $615,000 (CAD) from 8,600 donors. From her hospital bed, she replied to every person who donated. She posted paintings she did, usually of cards or gifts people had sent her. In one painting, she depicts her husband and son burying her ashes under a tree, hoping that her son would understand her wishes and come to peace with what was to come next in his young life. On September 9th, she was promoted to full professor. She celebrated with her husband, son, and the hospital staff with coffee ice cream.

When her legs no longer supported her daily fundraising shuffle, she danced in place in bed, the focus always on the scholarship.

Even when the inevitable happens, like a fool, I feel caught off-guard. Dr. Chaudhri died on Tuesday, October 5th. I sobbed. I sobbed because I would now be without the sunshine she brought with her inspiring tweets. I cried because the underrepresented in STEM lost a champion. I wept because I knew what her husband was feeling. I sobbed because I knew the world her son would now grow up in without his loving mother. It didn’t’ matter that she lived in Canada, that she was from Pakistan, that she advocated for the coronavirus vaccine for everyone, that she was excited she could vote in Canada’s recent election. It mattered because she was a good person.

Find those that inspire, that bring sunshine into this increasingly dark world. Better yet, be that sunshine for someone else. Thank you, Dr. Chaudhri.

One Thing

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One thing. Name one thing great about America? One thing? Name one thing we all agree is great about America. I’ll wait.

I went to the grocery store again. And, again, over 90% of people were not wearing masks. Why? Because we got bored, we’re selfish, and we all know better. Except boredom is not an excuse, narcissism is ignorance, and we don’t know better. Madison Cawthorn, the moronic Ken doll in a wheelchair from North Carolina, said as soon as the Republicans regain control of Congress, he’ll bring Dr. Fauci up on charges. Republicans aren’t bored; they’re ignorant, dangerous, and vindictive—freedom at any cost, including the labored death of 700,000 Americans.

One thing. I’m still waiting.

There are parts of the world dying for the vaccine. And yet we have 70 million self-appointed physicians in America who have decided, based on their evidence-based research, that COVID-19 is a hoax, the vaccine makes you magnetic, contains a microchip, and is part of a globalist control program. The virus is ravaging parts of Africa. Our federal government is sending millions of doses of the vaccine across the globe because our citizens are too stupid to help themselves.

Do you know what Americans send to Africa? Bibles. Do you know what corporate America sees Africa as? A market. The problem is Africans can’t afford to buy anything we want to sell them. Do you know what China thinks of Africa? They think of them as resource-rich partners. All our cell phones, televisions, talking refrigerators, and sentient washing machines require minerals and raw materials found in Africa. Guess where all these products America craves are made? China. China buys the resources from Africa. With money. China gives cash to Africa. Not bibles. The people of Africa can purchase food with cash. They can’t eat bibles.

The asshole carrying his boom-boom stick AR-15 in Starbucks is the “good guy with a gun,” he’ll tell us. Except there’s no flashing purple light over his head or a vaccine card to verify it for those of us who just see a weapon of war in a coffee shop. It’s the same with masks. Maybe everyone in the grocery store is double vaccinated and has qualified for the booster. But there’s no flashing purple light over their head. I don’t trust you. Sorry. I wear a mask to protect those too stupid to believe in science and their fellow neighbors and family members. And for those under 12 unable to be vaccinated yet. And for those with compromised immune systems leaving them vulnerable. You’re not because why? Oh, you know better? No. You don’t care.

What constitutes American exceptionalism? Still waiting. Oh, I know what they’ll say. “If it’s so bad, why don’t you leave? America is the home of the free because of the brave!” Fuck you. If people like me leave, that only lowers the national IQ and it’s already hovering dangerously close to the floor. So, no, I’m not going.

And stop taxing your tiny brains. There is no one great thing about America. American exceptionalism is a fantasy broadcast by the right and the ignorant to cover up an infantile worldview and those with an absolute abdication of responsibility. American exceptionalism isn’t a reality. It’s a goal. But goals cannot be achieved if the lowest common denominators make policy in the absence of fact, truth, and understanding and in the presence of fantasy, jingoism, and malice.

One thing. Couldn’t do it.

Sandra

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My former mother-in-law, Sandra McIntosh, died on Friday. She had had multiple sclerosis since before I met her in 1987 and finally succumbed to ovarian cancer at age 81. This is a difficult piece to write.

I met her in 1987 when delivering her daughter’s baseball glove after she broke her leg during a company softball game. It was an excuse to see Lisa. Nothing more. We weren’t even dating at that point, but I had my sights set on her. Indeed, with a broken leg, there was not much need for a baseball glove! Sandra met me at the door and was very courteous if confused. That initial reaction held for the entirety of the time I knew Sandra.

Her husband, Doug, was my friend. When he was diagnosed with lung cancer in 1999, Lisa, our two young children, and I moved in with him and Sandra to care for him. He and Lisa had similar, effervescent personalities. It was a fool’s errand to try to keep up with them. But, oh, did we laugh.

In December of that year, he died in my arms as I tried to help him to a chair on the one night in all those months that Lisa left the house with her friend Naomi. Telling Sandra to stay in the bedroom while I called 911, and then Lisa felt like juggling cats underwater, my head drowning. Immediately after that, Sandra came to live with us. She lived in assisted living facilities off and on after that, sometimes living with us, sometimes living in ALFs.

Lisa was diagnosed with cancer in 2008. As many of you know, she, the kids, and I moved to Texas to treat her. Forgetting the dye had already been cast, and despite her Herculean efforts, she died in 2015. Sandra was with us in Texas from 2010 until the kids, Sandra, and I returned to Rhode Island in 2016 after the kids graduated from the University of Texas at Austin.

Before Doug died, he made me promise to take care of Sandra. It is a promise I have always tried to uphold. Lisa made me make the same promise. Two peas in a pod, those two. I promised her, too.

I don’t know why them and not me. It makes no more sense to me than knowing why cancer is, ultimately, suicidal, that it kills its host. To paraphrase Christopher Hitchens, “Why me?” “Why not,” said the universe.

Sandra was an only child. So was Doug. So was Lisa. We used to joke that Lisa didn’t have a family tree; she had a creeping vine. And now, they are all gone. However, the family tree/vine continues in Lisa’s children, my children: Samantha and Cameron. Thanks to IVF, they exist. Thanks to luck, they are not only children.

Sandra did not have Doug or Lisa’s electric personalities and never tried to keep up with them. Looking at family photos (or even photos from her high school yearbook), she rarely smiled in them. Most of the time, she isn’t even looking at the camera. However, that is not to say she didn’t enjoy herself. She loved crocheting, painting, drawing, family get-togethers, “cousin’s parties” at the Cape, and Christmas Eve’s at the DeCesare’s.

She learned to cover her not knowing something with wit, exaggeration, or obfuscation. She was either a graduate of a nursing school or any number of four-year universities to listen to her talk. Over the past twenty years, I’ve spent many hours with her in Emergency Departments. Invariably, she tells the nurse that she spent many years at that hospital as a nurse. Once, at dinner, she bonded with the waiter, who told us he was Hungarian. “I’m Hungarian, too!” she said. She put other’s minds at ease with her exaggerations and obfuscations, blending into conversations rather than dominating them. She made everyone feel they belonged indeed, that she belonged.

She did attend and graduate from a nursing program in Boston in the early 1960’s. After that, she worked briefly at a psych hospital. She then spent her adulthood watching Doug’s meteoric rise through the business world, attending board outings, professional dinners, and weekends at the Cape. She settled into life as a quiet wife and mother. She taught ceramics out of their basement and signed her works “Sugar.” Lisa never acquiesced to Sandra’s request that she sign her pieces “Spice.” Indeed, signing them “Oil” and “Water” might have been more appropriate. Mothers and daughters.

Now she is gone like Doug. And like Lisa. The family I married into, all gone. I feel bad for my kids. The unlived memories and stolen years with their mother and grandfather hurt more than the memories and years stolen from Doug or Lisa because the kids still exist to feel the pain. I can only offer stories and hope I did right by their grandfather and mother and the promise they made me make.

Funny thing about promises: anyone can make them to anyone else. I know Lisa made Naomi promise to look in on me occasionally, to see how I was doing, to see how the kids were doing. I appreciate it and, like everyone else, am doing the best I can to live a meaningful, productive life. I have remarried and am allowing myself to be happy. May we all have a reprieve from grief for a while? I wish I could promise.

Freedom…

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The First Amendment to the United States Constitution reads:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

The Second Amendment to the United States Constitution reads:

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

Can someone, perhaps a Constitutional scholar (or someone who attended the University of Hard Knocks because, apparently, that’s the same thing), explain to me how these “rights” as written by James Monroe came to be interpreted as freedom from responsibility? Please?

Reeling from a global pandemic, science handed us a way out. And it was made free and accessible to everyone! And yet, after sitting on our asses for a year, we cannot be bothered to get vaccinated. We can’t be bothered to do what is right for our family, our neighbors, our nation, the world. Because FREEDOM! But freedom from what? Can someone answer that question? What’s the end of that phrase? Freedom from what? 

I see yard signs now saying UNMASK OUR CHILDREN! Unmask? Oh, you mean to leave the decision to protect your child, my family, and everyone too stupid to vaccinate themselves to you and your internet search medical degree?

I still wear a mask inside stores. Do you know why? I’m vaccinated! The CDC says I no longer need to wear a mask indoors. I wear the mask indoors for two reasons. First, because the vaccine has provided cover for those too selfish to vaccinate themselves; in other words, those unvaccinated can claim to be vaccinated and therefore no longer need to wear a mask indoors. I wear a mask indoors with those I do not know because I do not trust them. Their freedom from responsibility leaves them vulnerable to the virus and a prime candidate to join 600,000 other dead Americans. And, honestly, I’m done worrying about their lives. If they’re too selfish and cloaked in the wisdom granted by the Fox News science and medical experts Tucker Carlson, Laura Ingraham, and Sean Hannity, I don’t care if they live or die. Just as they have rid themselves of caring whether I live or die. Second, I wear the mask because I could be carrying the virus and be asymptomatic due to the vaccine. Despite my anger at the unvaccinated, I wear it to protect them from me.

 Freedom from responsibility has replaced both the first and second Amendments. We have the freedom to say and do anything we want, but we now assume it was granted without responsibility. No blowback is expected or appreciated. We have been locked indoors for a year. And when finally bored enough, we ventured out. Some of us were vaccinated. But the bored move about freely. And as soon as we ventured out of our homes, we did so, not with the vaccine, but with our guns. Free to leave our homes, Americans are now subjected to multiple mass shootings a day. Because Freedom! But, again, no one finishes that phrase. Freedom from what, if not responsibility?

I weigh too much. Guess what? It’s because I overeat. Not because of my boss, my spouse, my government, or my family. And guess what? When I take responsibility for my weight and eat better foods and less of it, I lose weight! If I eat red meat, there is a chance my heart will suffer, or my cells may rebel in cancer. The danger I am subjecting others to is limited. My family will suffer my loss. But my job will be filled within a week, and the world will carry on. However, not vaccinating myself leaves me vulnerable, along with everyone with whom I come in contact. The danger is expanded exponentially—the exposed beyond just me. And to do that to others is selfish and devoid of responsibility. 

The irony of this situation is that those refusing to be vaccinated directly infringe on my freedoms! I may soon be required to wear a mask everywhere again because the unvaccinated will drive us back into restrictions and lockdowns. I did the right thing for everyone, but I may soon be restricted from moving about freely because of the unvaccinated.

The first definition of socialism in the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines socialism as:

Any of the various economic and political theories advocating collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means of production and distribution of goods.

Can we agree that seatbelts are a socialistic response to automobile injuries and deaths? Can we agree that highways are a socialistic response to bad roads being too expensive for each of us to build alone? Can we agree that the military that the right fawns over and spends almost a trillion dollars on a year is a socialistic response to existential or dogmatic geopolitical threats? If so, can we not also agree that solutions to problems need to be made on a granular level exclusive of a nation’s political definition? Can we agree that it is possible and appropriate to have a socialistic response to a problem within a democratic republic? That perhaps reductio ad absurdum or ad hominem arguments against proper answers to issues are simpleminded, foolhardy, and just plain wrong?   

 My rights are being infringed as a vaccinated citizen both by those who will not vaccinate themselves and those who think a gun gives them power and absolution. Freedom from responsibility is now the American creed. 

Father’s Day

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Yesterday was my 27th Father’s Day; however, it was different from any other because it was also my first as stepdad. It was also the seventh without my father. 

Every job a man takes has its challenges, victories, and defeats; however, none are as humbling, daunting, or rewarding as being a dad. I can, through observation, not experience, assume the same holds for women.

“It probably takes many years of monastic practice to equal the spiritual growth generated by one sleepless night with a sick child.” ― Douglas Abrams.

I have always held that it is better to parent a child rather than be their best friend because, in the end, it is the adult they become that I want to befriend. 

We cannot always build the future for our youth, but we can build our youth for the future.” ― Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Someone once said to be a father is to fail every day. I’m not sure I entirely agree, although there is nothing as humbling as seeing your failures play out against the vision you had of being a parent or witnessing the heartbreak in your child’s eyes.

“It is the most miserable thing to feel ashamed at home.” ― Charles Dickens.

Paul Anka may have written (and Sinatra crooned) “Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.” But I’ll bet everything I own he was not talking about being a father because I have memories/failures/regrets I’ll take to the grave with me that I wish I could erase. Regrets and shame I carry like Marley’s shackles.  

I am wounded. I am marked by old codes, which shielded me in one world and then chained me in the next.” ― Ta-Nehisi Coates.

Fatherhood is more than parenting; it is an obligation to become the person your children need you to be. And while there are regrets (and there may be daily failures), every father is required to get up the next day and try again to be the best he can be.

“I’m very at ease, and I like it. I never thought I would be such a family-oriented guy; I didn’t think that was part of my makeup. But somebody said that as you get older, you become the person you always should have been, and I feel that’s happening to me. I’m rather surprised at who I am, because I’m actually like my dad!” ― David Bowie.

I believe each successive generation takes the parenting process adopted by their parents and tweaks it a bit where perceived injustices existed. Too often, the course correction is understated or overstated, resulting in a perpetual pendulum of adjustments, none of us ever achieving the centerline of success. We judge from afar the parenting of people we see in restaurants or malls, oblivious that the most potent spotlight we wield points inward. However, as children, at least initially, whatever homelife we experience is our “normal,” regardless of how extreme.

Oscar Wilde wrote in The Picture of Dorian Gray, “Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older, they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.” We tend to think our parents had the parenting manual denied us. We forget that they were experiencing parenthood at the exact time we were experiencing childhood. There was no dress rehearsal, no second take. 

We never get over our fathers, and we’re not required to. (Irish Proverb)” ― Martin Sheen

There are inevitable disagreements and fissures. And while we can not bequeath our experiences to our children, neither can we be expected to endure repression of our growth from our parents. We must be allowed, as is natural, to fly from the nest. As a parent, then, it is our job to comfort the adult child when they fall and inflame their passion to slam into the next wall in pursuit of their dreams.

“Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement.” ― George Eliot.

This Father’s Day was different for several reasons. My son is now living in Texas, my daughter in Connecticut. My stepdaughters are at home with my wife and me. I spoke with my son via telephone late in the day and, while I missed being with him, as always, I enjoyed the witty conversation. After a year of social distancing, I was able to hug my vaccinated daughter when she joined us for dinner. After such a long time, it felt as if I appreciated a future I’ll never see, and at the same time, it felt like an embrace of generations past. My older stepdaughter gave me an engraved, metal guitar pick that read, “I couldn’t pick a better stepdad.” As the sentimental one in the family, it took everything in me not to break down. My youngest stepdaughter painted me a Father’s Day card with all the attention to detail and love an eleven-year-old can generate. I raised (in no way alone or even as a 50% contributor) two grown children. To become a stepdad now allows me to do the finetuning and course corrections usually reserved for generational levels. Will I make the same mistakes, will I overcorrect? I can only promise to try my best, to enjoy each day, and hope I can have some modicum of effect on the adults my new daughters become. 

I have no right to be this happy. To have two grown children (adults) with whom I want to befriend and two stepdaughters who fill our house with laughter is more than I ever expected at this point in my life. In many ways, I thought my wife’s death was the closing chapter of my life’s mile markers. But life had other plans for me, and when I remarried last December, I allowed my life to continue, allowed myself to be happy again, and it allowed me a chance to see life’s mile markers get posted by all of my children. I don’t have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know all of the questions. All I can promise all of my children is that I will try; try to understand, try to grow, try to forgive, always to love.

And a special shout out to every single mother working to be both mother and father. That’s a strength I can acknowledge but never know.

Happy Father’s Day!

The Dragon in the Garage

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Marjorie Taylor Greene (GQP, GA-14) recently tweeted, “Vaccinated employees get a vaccination logo just like the Nazi’s forced Jewish people to wear a gold star. 

Vaccine passports & mask mandates create discrimination against unvaxxed people who trust their immune systems to a virus that is 99% survivable.”

Retweeted by Greene was a post from David Brody, who wrote, “People have the freedom to NOT get vaccinated if they don’t feel comfortable with it. Those that ARE vaccinated shouldn’t shame the unvaccinated. We have enough division. The last thing America needs is separating citizens into two medical tiers with a reward/punish system!”

Antisemitism and disingenuous calls for unity aside, these tweets are idiotic for another reason. I will shame any individual not lining up to get the vaccine. Not only shame but judge and ostracize. 

I have my problems with doctors and our state of medicine. I think we are still in the dark ages, despite the “advances” we’ve made. We don’t know shit about the human body. And the thought (by some) that we are nearing a cure for cancer is beyond foolish. 

However, the vaccines developed by medicine and science to address the COVID-19 pandemic are as miraculous as I’m ever willing to admit. And we are not worthy of it.

According to Johns Hopkins, today (May 26, 2021), 3,488,625 people have died due to the virus. In the United States, that number is 591,179. And yet, despite overwhelming evidence that masks and social distancing help keep the virus from spreading, we got bored! Bored! Masks holding chins up, Republican politicians and right-wing media downplaying the risk, or simply the maskless citing their “freedom” over common sense and community concern allowed the virus to keep taking bites out of us like a shark on a whale carcass. 

I cannot shop in a grocery store (adorned with more lines and markers than an international airport tarmac) without feeling like a spawning salmon going upstream. I catch myself looking behind me on every aisle to ensure I’m going the correct way as an armada of uncaring shoppers approaches me.

1,735,215,327 vaccine doses have been administered worldwide (288,596,955 in the US), but Dr. Barstool next to me in the grocery store won’t get the vaccine because he does not know the long-term effects of the vaccine… Well, doctor, 591,179 people Americans know the long-term impact of dying from the virus. Sorry, they aren’t available to comment. The CDC currently reports a 0.0017% chance of death from an adverse reaction to the vaccine (resulting from voluntary reporting and before any analysis of death certificates or autopsy reports). The United States Navy, because the vaccine was approved using “Emergency Use Authorization” (you know, because of the pandemic), is now offering incentives for military personnel to get the vaccine. This is beyond outrageous. Have the vaccine fully approved and mandate vaccinations. Life is full of risk. This one is a no-brainer. It was simple before. Wear the damn mask. This is simpler. Get the damn shot.

And yet, the Democrats expect to negotiate in good faith with Trump’s party, to compromise on solutions, in short, to govern. And here is where the Democrats bring a pillow to a gunfight. Republicans no longer exist. Although I suspect they’d be fine with Democrats bringing a My Pillow to the gunfight, because, as we know, Mike Lindell has all of the answers. They have been corrupted to the point of extinction by Trump and his acolytes. Ipsos presented the results of their recent survey, which showed that today (again, May 26, 2021), 53% of Republicans believe Trump is the actual president. How, in the name of parliamentary debate, do you argue with a party that does not accept facts? 

John Adams wrote, “Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passions, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence.” He was obviously wrong. Today, the power within the Republican party lies with those that are grounded in neither fact, evidence, nor reason. Shakespeare’s three witches in Macbeth said, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair.” That’s the Republican party today. 

Trump’s Orwellian claim that “What you are seeing and what you’re reading is not what’s happening,” seems lifted directly from 1984 (“The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”)

And yet, 53% of Republicans believe Trump is president.

This week has seen an avalanche of improbable headlines:

  • Texas approved “constitutional carry,” where individuals do not need a license or training to carry a handgun. As if that’s not depressing enough, consider that Texas wasn’t first to that party. They are the 21st state to approve constitutional carry.
  • Voter suppression bills (read; racist voting obstacles) are being passed in red states faster than a Texan can quick draw in Target. Coupled with ongoing gerrymandering, this all but guarantees Republican wins in the midterms. Democrats want a fair fight, a fair election? I refer you back to Shakespeare’s three witches.
  • Republicans stand ready to kill a bipartisan commission to explore the origins and failings evidenced by our own eyes and ears of the January 6 insurrection, claiming it is political theater. Enough people have compared this proposed commission with the 18 congressional hearings on Benghazi for me to have to expand on here. Besides, they were just tourists, right Rep. Clyde?

There were many more batshit crazy headlines, but why give them all oxygen? And yet, in the end, I must still adhere to Carl Sagan’s analogy of the dragon in the garage. Sagan wrote, “Now, what’s the difference between an invisible, incorporeal, floating dragon who spits heatless fire and no dragon at all? If there’s no way to disprove my contention, no conceivable experiment that would count against it, what does it mean to say that my dragon exists?” In other words, the Maricopa audit of the 2020 election is simply putting the onus on the sane to disprove the lunacy put forth by the insane. 

And so, I’ll close with one final quote, this from “Darwin’s bulldog” T.H. Huxley, who wrote, “The great tragedy of Science – the slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact.” Republicans believe in beautiful bullshit. I’ll take the ugly truth.

Bliss, Please

~ thoughtsatlarge ~ 1 Comment

That’s it. I’m done. I can’t do it anymore. It’s not me, America; it’s you. I’m disengaging, turning away, closing my eyes, and letting others worry. I’m going on a news and current events diet. Cold turkey.

Christopher Hitchens had a great quote I truly believed:

“What I used to say to people, when I was much more engaged myself, is that you can’t be apolitical. It will come and get you. It’s not that you shouldn’t be neutral. It’s that you won’t be able to stay neutral.”

He must have been stronger than me because I can’t do it anymore. I think I expect too much from people, this country, the world. I demand people not only be engaged but informed.

Harlan Ellison said, “You are not entitled to your opinion. You are entitled to your informed opinion. No one is entitled to be ignorant.”

Unfortunately, they’re not, and I’m exhausted. My 56th birthday is Monday, and I’d like to see my 57th and perhaps a few more after that. I’m tired of being angry all of the time. I’m tired of expecting more and continually being disappointed. I’m just tired.

It shouldn’t be this difficult. When I found myself on the floor crying and sick to my stomach, disgusted because twenty elementary school students and 6 of their teachers had been massacred by another American asshole with a fucking gun, I decided I had to do something, say something, stand up and be part of the solution. I joined the Brady Campaign and gave speeches to groups in Texas. Part of my remarks asked what you would have done as a farmer during the Revolutionary War, as a German during World War II, or as a white man during the civil rights push of the 1960s. Indeed, I thought, with 20/20 hindsight, the public would demand changes to the ridiculous gun control laws in the country. I was met with apathy and ossification. What I expected was searing heartache and a wave of people demanding change. What I experienced was momentary head shaking, “thoughts and prayers,” and then America turned the page, pocketing their “thoughts and prayers” for the next mass shooting. And the next. And the next.  

When Donald Trump was elected president, I was outraged, disgusted, and fearful of what he might do. What I did not do was terrorize citizens, impose my will on anyone, or storm the Capitol. After the first impeachment acquittal, I was angry at the lack of integrity displayed by Senate Republicans. When he was acquitted yesterday after his second impeachment, I was numb.

I’m accused of being a pessimist. If it is pessimistic to believe people should act more responsibly and knowing they won’t, then brand me a pessimist. A country that pays the moon to its entertainers and sports figures and hangs on their every dalliance is a country that does not listens to its scientists (only through a sheer division of public attention or, more likely, choice). Or one that pays any attention to their elected officials or demands their best. Think climate control, gerrymandering, gun control, or inciting insurrection.

After September 11, 2001, there was a national outpouring of patriotism (and nationalism). However, in a land where a billionaire from NYC has been deemed the “voice” of the poor and uneducated, we have taken that which we hated and, through a bizarre cultural appropriation, now look like them. Think about it. The wars we waged/wage in Iraq and Afghanistan demanded our soldiers blend in with the locals. So, they grew beards. Before 9/11, beards on men were relatively rare. However, in our fawning over our military, through television and movies, “manly” American men now look like Iraqi and Afghani men. Look at the “manly” men who attacked the Capitol. How ironic. Do you want to sell something to American men? Put the word “tactical” in front of the product name. That’s how we define men in America. Not by education, morality, or fidelity, but rather by “camo” tactical gear, an AR-15, and a beard.

But I can’t do it anymore. I’m turned off, tuned out, and dropped the mic. Benjamin Franklin said, “Being ignorant is not so much a shame as being unwilling to learn.” I am more than willing to learn and will never stop learning. But perhaps ignorant to current events will lead to tranquility in my brain. If ignorance is bliss, I’ll stop paying attention for a while in the hopes of finding bliss. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said, “It’s a universal law: Intolerance is the first sign of an inadequate education. An ill-educated person behaves with arrogant impatience, whereas truly profound education breeds humility.” I am not profoundly educated, but I will never stop learning, never stop reading, never stop trying to understand both sides of an issue. My impatience is not arrogance a result of repeated disappointment. And so, I’m done.

In a world where no good deed goes unpunished, no corruption goes unrewarded, and nice guys finish last, count me out. Now I hang on the sentence fragment from Hitchens’ quote above when he said, “…when I was more engaged…” Bring on the bliss, please.