Rather than run with the news, I want to write about something else. The virus isn’t going away soon like he said it would, the economy isn’t coming back soon like he said it would either. Most people are so entrenched in their political fox holes they might as well be writing their own headlines. I am no different. Anything at all that comes out of the White House is either suspect or summarily dismissed. When you understand that dismal set of circumstances, where we neither trust nor believe our cohorts on anything if their political beliefs run contrary to our own, then times really are hard and it is a sad day.
I remember a time when, from the neighborhood to the congress, people agreed to disagree and to collaborate in spite of their differences. I read this morning that Pete Buttigieg, former Mayor of South Bend, IN, and early leader in the Democratic Party primaries has written a book: “Trust, America’s Best Chance.” In it he notes; “building that trust, in both American institutions and fellow citizens, is the only way to address the other challenges facing the country.” That approach really resonates with me but then I liked his ideas before he wrote the book. Interestingly, it is the same basic message I got years before, from Jonathan Haidt’s books and subsequent lectures. The principle of qualified expertise is based on transparency and critical review. Political spin that lacks stiff scrutiny is piss in the wind but they sell a lot of it now. Who checks the facts? Without transparency and wide awake oversight, all you make is noise.
Anybody can claim anything. We are witnessing the playground bully principle in action. Rather than raising the bar for expert commentary, the bar is removed altogether. That puts us on the slippery slope to misinformation and emotionally charged name calling. All it does is change the subject away from what they don’t want to talk about. Not long ago the POTUS gave credence to his science source suggesting that bleach could be administered intravenously to cure Covid-19. Which institutions you trust does make a difference and trusting your future to a self appointed pretender is stupid. When the directorship of a federal agency is predicated on loyalty to the President rather than qualified expertise in the field, what you see is what you get.
Today, all I can do is wait for my absentee ballot to arrive in the mail. But I can take comfort in my music. Storytellers like me, we like music with lyrics, a complete story reduced to a few lines, a beginning a middle and an end.
The Beetles are a good place to start, “. . . and when the broken hearted people, living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.” Then, Carole King came along with: “. . . They’ll hurt you, yes, and desert you, and take your soul if you let them, oh, but don’t you let them.” Elton John touched a nerve end with, “. . . you lived your life like a candle in the wind, never knowing who to cling to when the rain set in.” This is cathartic; I could do this all day. Linda Ronstadt sang, “. . . time washes clean, love’s wounds unseen. That’s what someone told me but I don’t know what it means.” Clapton gave us, “. . . Lately I've been running on faith. What else can a poor boy do?” Don McLean, “. . . do you believe in rock and roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”
Once, before grandchildren, my son and daughter in law took me to see James Taylor in concert. It is still a high point in my life, not just for JT but also for who I was with. After what seemed like a long wait, standing, applauding to a darkened stage, calling for an encore, JT slipped out unnoticed from behind a curtain and sat on the corner of the stage with his feet hanging down. It was mid-August-hot but nobody cared. He talked to us and with us, like you would expect between friends. After a long chat, with no introduction, no warning, he did a finger roll on his guitar and eased into the song, “. . . There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range. His horse and his cattle are his only companions. He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons, waiting for summer his pastures to change.” Yes; I do feel better.
I remember a time when, from the neighborhood to the congress, people agreed to disagree and to collaborate in spite of their differences. I read this morning that Pete Buttigieg, former Mayor of South Bend, IN, and early leader in the Democratic Party primaries has written a book: “Trust, America’s Best Chance.” In it he notes; “building that trust, in both American institutions and fellow citizens, is the only way to address the other challenges facing the country.” That approach really resonates with me but then I liked his ideas before he wrote the book. Interestingly, it is the same basic message I got years before, from Jonathan Haidt’s books and subsequent lectures. The principle of qualified expertise is based on transparency and critical review. Political spin that lacks stiff scrutiny is piss in the wind but they sell a lot of it now. Who checks the facts? Without transparency and wide awake oversight, all you make is noise.
Anybody can claim anything. We are witnessing the playground bully principle in action. Rather than raising the bar for expert commentary, the bar is removed altogether. That puts us on the slippery slope to misinformation and emotionally charged name calling. All it does is change the subject away from what they don’t want to talk about. Not long ago the POTUS gave credence to his science source suggesting that bleach could be administered intravenously to cure Covid-19. Which institutions you trust does make a difference and trusting your future to a self appointed pretender is stupid. When the directorship of a federal agency is predicated on loyalty to the President rather than qualified expertise in the field, what you see is what you get.
Today, all I can do is wait for my absentee ballot to arrive in the mail. But I can take comfort in my music. Storytellers like me, we like music with lyrics, a complete story reduced to a few lines, a beginning a middle and an end.
The Beetles are a good place to start, “. . . and when the broken hearted people, living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.” Then, Carole King came along with: “. . . They’ll hurt you, yes, and desert you, and take your soul if you let them, oh, but don’t you let them.” Elton John touched a nerve end with, “. . . you lived your life like a candle in the wind, never knowing who to cling to when the rain set in.” This is cathartic; I could do this all day. Linda Ronstadt sang, “. . . time washes clean, love’s wounds unseen. That’s what someone told me but I don’t know what it means.” Clapton gave us, “. . . Lately I've been running on faith. What else can a poor boy do?” Don McLean, “. . . do you believe in rock and roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”
Once, before grandchildren, my son and daughter in law took me to see James Taylor in concert. It is still a high point in my life, not just for JT but also for who I was with. After what seemed like a long wait, standing, applauding to a darkened stage, calling for an encore, JT slipped out unnoticed from behind a curtain and sat on the corner of the stage with his feet hanging down. It was mid-August-hot but nobody cared. He talked to us and with us, like you would expect between friends. After a long chat, with no introduction, no warning, he did a finger roll on his guitar and eased into the song, “. . . There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range. His horse and his cattle are his only companions. He works in the saddle and he sleeps in the canyons, waiting for summer his pastures to change.” Yes; I do feel better.
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