Category: American Affairs

WHEN YOU WIPE OUT HOPE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I keep thinking about that negative reaction to Barack Obama’s promise of positive politics – that red bar and circle over the word HOPE. And then all the destructive backpedaling from those deriding any outlook of hope – their refusal to work together for any real solutions to the issues facing the nation or world.

Or their blatant cry of NOPE!

Doesn’t that make theirs the party of No Hope? The party of Despair? Or even the party of Hate?

That’s how it looks from here, even before we add Trump’s tyrannical bluster.

Well, I’d welcome a similar red circle and bar over their campaign posters and ads in the fall. Along with a bold proclamation: NOPE! NOT THIS ONE! OR ANY OF THEM!

Just to be fair.

A FOOTNOTE OF SORTS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

Many of the Red Barn’s Woodpecker Reports, you may have noticed, are rooted in the years of the George W. Bush administration. Contrary to recent public opinion and propagandists, it was a dark period that launched a very expensive and unjustified war and nearly crashed the country into another Great Depression. Toward the end, there were moments we were only hours away from global financial collapse.

Barack Obama deserves praise for his drastic efforts to turn from that fate, even if he can – and should – be faulted in restoring the banking system rather than rebuilding it on a new foundation far more open to the American people.

Despite steering the nation back to economic health as far as Wall Street goes – something that has yet to take hold for the nation’s working families – and of inheriting two wars that defy true resolution, Obama’s legacy stands tainted by the GOP’s bitterly partisan control of the House of Representatives, severely crippling any effort to move forward on many critical issues. A party intent on obstruction and destruction rather than acting as a loyal opposition deserves far more blame than it’s been given.

In its own failure to proclaim this burning message, the Democratic Party, in turn, has no justification in being baffled by its own current state of wreckage.

So where do we go? Where do we turn? How do we move forward from this mess?

HARLEY HEAVEN ON LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 6 Comments

Laconia Bike Week – more formally, the 93rd Laconia Motorcycle Week – comes to a climax this weekend, and in New Hampshire the annual event opens the summer tourism season. Even where we live, more than an hour away, you can hear it in the air, especially if your windows are open at night. Let’s call it a buzz. Everybody who can wants to be out on the road with the wind in their hair – New Hampshire is, after all, one state that does not require helmets be worn by either the driver or the passenger. Some wags do, however, suggest the state motto should be changed slightly, to Live Free and Die. A bit of risk does have its attraction.

Always scheduled to end on Father’s Day each year, the legendary name Laconia lands somewhere between Daytona, Florida, and Sturgis, South Dakota, both on the map and on the calendar of avid motorcyclists. The Weirs Beach landing in the small city of Laconia is the centerpiece of the gathering, promptly teaming with black-clad riders and vendors of all sorts. Since local schools are usually making up for days that were closed for snowy weather, families don’t arrive for vacation any earlier than the Fourth of July anyway, and any earlier than mid-June, the weather can be a tad too cold or wet for other folks. So the thousands of bikers who show up are a welcome boost to the hospitality industry, not just in the mountainous Lakes Region but across the state as they seek meals, entertainment, and lodging in the midst of roaming the wooded landscape.

It wasn’t always so. Before motorcycles became respectable, fights and even riots could break out. I’ve heard plenty of stories.

Now, however, things have mellowed out to the point many of the activities are labeled family-friendly. A majority of the iron horses seem to carry two, one clutching the one proudly clutching the handlebars. That, in itself, may have a calming influence. And then there are others who simply want to show off their impeccably polished machines. We were passed on the highway this morning by a small trailer carrying two such Harleys from New Jersey. The owners obviously weren’t going to subject them to the long road itself.

Unlike many of the names in the region, Laconia is not one given by the Native peoples. Rather, it’s originally a city in Greece. That might not be the only reason for the New Hampshire city’s name, though. In 1629, a partnership called the Laconia Company organized to prepare much of colonial New Hampshire for development; while I’m finding much of that history hard to follow, it does appear that one of the partners soon became a pirate. Really. I’m sure you can find many pirate flags and images at Weirs Beach this week, so maybe there’s an underlying connection. Who knows?

For those who do ride into the Granite State, a reminder: when you’re on your way home, be sure to pull over and put your helmets on before you cross the state line. It’s a safe bet the Massachusetts troopers will be waiting for those who don’t.

Let summer begin.

FEELING A BERN

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I was already deep in trying to comprehend and explain just what hit us in the hippie outbreak of the late ’60s and early ’70s. As I’ve recounted, there were many overlapping strands of activity and interests within the movement, many of which continue as active parts of the American scene, and no one could possibly embrace them all.

Many of those I knew could be hardworking, responsible, loyal individuals taking steps toward lofty goals. Some of the others, well, lazy was only part of their problem. ‘Nuff said?

Outwardly, the subsequent decades weren’t kind to our vision, however hazy it may have been. So much went underground, even as it became accepted part of American culture. Organic food, anyone? A peace protest? How about yoga?

And then Bernie Sanders embarked on his White House run. Attending his early town hall meetings was like a retired hippie reunion, except that there were a lot of serious, neatly attired young adults there, too. It felt like a hippie revival, actually, at least for those of us of the more political activist vein, plus a lot of back-to-the-earth types.

Yes! Keep the faith and keep on truckin’!

What a relief after the embarrassing recognition that many who continue in the stereotypical “hippie look” carry an air of loser more than the cutting-edge adventure and discovery we embraced in our youthful exuberance. Yes, there are still beards and long hair, along with the baldness and natural-looking cuts.

Looking back, I can point to a host of reasons the movement lost direction and traction in the ’70s. This time, I’m hoping we can keep our eyes on the destination and our egos in check. We’ve had enough bad trips, OK?

Remember, it’s not just the White House if we want to make the changes we’ve long dreamed.

If we should have learned anything in the hippie experience, it’s this. Nobody can do it alone.

WHY WOODPECKER CAN’T KEEP UP

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

Many days in the newsroom I had the feeling of same-old, same-old. I’d seen it all before. Another election, just different names and tallies. Another car crash or house fire. A store opening or a restaurant closing. Graduations or obituaries. It’s a long list. And then something refreshing would come along, something that prompted the exclamation, “I’ve never seen that before!” Contrary to the doom-and-gloom image of the business, many of us at the newspaper loved having something uplifting to present.

These days, though, it’s more likely to be along the lines of this couldn’t be happening, could it?

The American presidential campaign is just the most obvious. The Woodpecker Reports appearing at the Red Barn are supposed to be a reminder of the underlying currents we thought would be shaping this election season – the history and power-brokers moving behind the scenes, especially. Things we’d seen before, round after round, including the same players or their disciples. Woodpecker can hammer away in the infected trees, as he’s been, but when the forest catches fire, he’ll take flight. I know this: things are spinning too fast to keep up. And that’s before we get to the climate instability that’s more glibly called global warming.

~*~

I’m still aghast at the reports of Sen. David Perdue’s “joking” when he encouraged participants at a religious conference to pray that President Obama’s “days be few,” a reference to Psalm 109. The audience apparently picked up on the calamities to be inflicted not just on the transgressor but on his spouse and children, too – evil thoughts, without question. In the text, however, King David is pouring out his soul in response to political persecution, a situation the Georgia Republican blithely ignores. King David’s lines certainly fit as a cry for help from Obama: “Wicked and deceiving words are being said about me, false accusations are being cast in my teeth,” as verse 2 reads in the New Jerusalem translation. “In return for my friendship they denounce me. … They repay my kindness with evil, and friendship with evil” (verses 4-5) match the good intentions Obama had for reasoning with a Republican Congress. As for the evil man oppressing the king, “He had no thought of being loyal, but hounded the poor and needy and the broken hearted to their death. He had a taste for cursing; let it recoil on him!” (verses 16-17).

Taken in its fullness, the Psalm – perhaps even the Holy One – could point to Perdue and laugh, “The joke’s on you.”

Except that this is serious, deadly serious. Prayer is never a joke, not for the faithful. And the Fourth Commandment (Exodus 20:7) warns: “You shall not misuse the name of Yahweh your God, for Yahweh will not leave unpunished anyone who misuses his name.” (The New Jerusalem here gives quite a different insight than the more traditional take of “taking the Lord’s name in vain,” usually seen as colloquial cursing or words not uttered in polite company.)

In a broader context, we can remember that King David could be both passionate and brash, qualities that got him in deep doo-doo more than once, and thanks to Abigail, he even had to recant one of the curses he was about to impose on her husband and all the males in her extended household (I Samuel 25).

While we’re at it, we can also leap ahead to Jesus commanding his followers, “Love your enemies,” and to look for the plank in their own eyes when faulting the splinter in another’s.

Nowhere do I accept an argument that it can be OK to pray for evil.

~*~

Only hours later came the massacre at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida, the worst mass slaying by a solitary gunman in the nation’s history.

As I read a few headlines quoting people who were suggesting the sinfulness of the lifestyle was the reason for the tragedy, I once again found myself aghast. (When I reread the reports more carefully, this was not their argument; rather it turned against Islam and its followers. Still, I have no doubt the original line of anti-LGBT argument is circulating through many circles.)

What angered me in my reaction was the notion we see all too often of blaming the victims. If their lifestyle were to blame, how then do we align that with shootings in churches, schools, even movie theaters, as we’re seeing? You’re going to blame Amish children or their parents? Come on, now! Or is something else the cause? At the moment, the United States has more guns per capita than at any previous time in its history; firearms were relatively scarce, even on the frontier, as you’ll discover reading wills from the period.

Let me suggest another calculus:

The more guns, the more murders. Period.

~*~

I just wish that mass shootings weren’t becoming same-old, same-old news in America, with only the numbers and frequency rising. Or that the anger weren’t fueling hatred.

Maybe I need to head out to the garden to see what’s new there. Even picking weeds might be uplifting.

SPARED, FOR NOW

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

In a same-day announcement, Donald Trump cancelled a rally planned for late this afternoon or early this evening about dozen miles from us. (These things never start on time.) Said he had to work on a speech. Something more than a tweet?

We’re relieved, for several reasons.

First, it’s good to know he won’t be stirring additional pollution into our local air. There’s enough toxic bigotry, self-delusion, horse hockey, cruelty, and hatred gushing out from his mouth as it is. Reasoned criticism is one thing, but that’s not what we get with this candidate. Won’t ever be, either.

Even if it weren’t Trump, we already know how these campaign appearances snarl already congested rush-hour driving. What was he thinking when he picked rush hour, anyway? Real people — the kind who have to work jobs for a living — know about this, unlike Trump and his supporter Chris Christie. Living in the Granite State, you soon discover how the enhanced security force can muck up traffic at any hour, clustering around intersections, especially, even before halting a freeway for the comic-opera parade of motorcycle cops, candidate in his limo, staff in theirs, Secret Service, and trucks of news media in tow. We’d already changed our plans to avoid all that. I even visited a clinic down that way to pick up a prescription first thing this morning, thank you.

Now, thankfully, it looks like we’ll have our highway connection running normally after all.

Another conflict, though, is more existential. Did I want to join in a short-notice truth-witness vigil near the event site? Conscience said yes, but a look at my to-do list (including the garden) said not really. To venture forth to the protest line would mean entering all that traffic I’d resolved to dodge, while the to-do would mean staying home, maybe grilling dinner to soothe my aching muscles while failing to respond to the call of Liberty. Looked like I’d feel a pang of misery either way.

Well, we’re off the hook for now – all of us. As for the next question, will I be more in gear for the next opportunity?

NOT EVEN NATIVE TO AMERICA, IT’S AN OFFAL MASCOT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 4 Comments

There I was, driving behind a vehicle that had a GOP elephant logo when the random thought hit me: pachyderms generate huge amounts of offal. (I read it in the Wall Street Journal, a big piece about the job given the last guys in the circus parade, in fact, if I remember right.)

And then I realized how much of our current political mess was created by previous Republican administrations. (If we can’t afford X, Y, or Z now, remember how much was squandered on the meaningless Iraq war, for starters.)

The fact I want to focus on, though, is the question of whether an elephant is an appropriate mascot for an AMERICAN political party. It’s an import that’s ill-suited for much of the continent, and it consumes tons of food, no matter how mighty it can be as a workhorse in the jungle. It’s definitely not something for the masses, and definitely not something we’d want as one for every household.

A donkey, in contrast, is a very efficient workhorse, and stubbornness can be a useful quality, at times. One per household’s not that far off the mark as a historic American ideal, either.

If I were a Republican strategist (gee, banish the thought), I’d be pushing for a new critter to identify with. But nothing that comes to mind at the moment is anything they’d want to consider.

POOL BUM

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

“Hey! You! Come here!” Black man, about thirty, in Pitt sweatshirt and Pirates cap, stands at the fence and motions one of the tough talking grade-schoolers over. “I said, Come here! Yes, YOU! I’m warning you, leave my daughter alone. Don’t call her, don’t talk to her, don’t approach her.” He fiddles with his car keys. The kid smirks. “Listen to me,” I suspect he wants to add “you little asshole,” but he restrains. “If I ever hear that you’ve said anything like that again, you’re in deep trouble. Understand me? Real deep trouble. And that goes for my wife, too. You’re to leave them both alone, got that. You can tell your mother what I’ve said to you, I don’t care. You can tell your pa, too. I don’t care. But I’m warning you, hear?”

(The blond brat, walking back to the pool from the fence, smirks to his buddies.)

I’m itching like crazy. This has been going on the past two weeks, ever since the first flea bites. Those are gone now but the itching gets worse. Hellfire. Mites? Fungi? Anemia? Allergies? (WATER! Hot showers or swimming?) Negative effects from the sun? First sunbathing in three weeks: my tan’s faded to half.

Hot shower and soap up thoroughly. No relief.

Much lotion, which I’ve been using for a week and a half anyway.

Iron pills.

Spray, for relief: Solarcaine. Tinactin. Bactine.

Avoid water now. Salute the dad.

Riverside 1~*~

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MEDICAL SYSTEM RX FROM ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

In the heated objections to health-care reform in the United States, I never heard a recognition that in many places we already have a single-provider system. Almost unseen, the local hospital has bought up the physicians’ practices and much more – capped by high-paid executive officers and maybe interest dividends. Moreover, the hospital itself may be owned by an out-of-town corporation.

The national plan we came up, however, seems to have ignored this shift, even while keeping the insurance companies in the game.

With a single provider, though, I’m left wondering: Where’s the real difference for the individual compared to a single-payer approach?

Or even something along the lines of the Lakeside method of public services, where a municipality shops around for its providers from a variety of possible sources, rather than relying on just itself?

THAT THIRD-PARTY ALLURE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 4 Comments

Count me among those who’ve long felt there’s a place for a viable third party in America. Or maybe even a fourth. Some place my positions won’t immediately be lost in tactical compromise. Some place I’d feel more identity than I’ve long sensed in the so-called representatives serving in most of the places I’ve lived.

To date, though, what I’ve observed is that most of the minor-party advocates and candidates have cast their eyes exclusively on the biggest prizes – the White House, especially, or perhaps a governorship or U.S. Senate seat. If you consider the scope of the Executive Branch and the number of qualified appointments to be filled, however, you soon realize there’s no way these individuals are prepared to take on that level of leadership. These are things that come out of big party organization and contacts.

At the other end of the spectrum, the reality is how rare the two-party dynamic is in most locales – it’s usually long-term control by one or the other – meaning the national parties are really just coalitions of 50 state parties. I happened to grow up in a state where regular sweeps of the state offices, from one party to the other, tended to keep things clean, especially in the voters’ welcome of mavericks.

Even closer to home, though, is the reality that getting candidates to run for local office is often a challenge. They don’t even have to be good – just a name willing to attend the meetings, if elected. Yet this is the bedrock of democracy and community.

Party affiliation – apart from ideology – can soon disappear in the practical decisions of garbage collection, fire protection, and street repairs. A Socialist city councilor did a top-notch job for our district, as is the plumber we keep reelecting.

An effective third party, then, would need to be built from ground-level up, not top-down. And that, I assume, would also mean region by region.

How else do you think it would shake out?