The Winter Solstice - A Short History

Solstice 2021    The Greatest Day of the Year

Most people that know me know that the winter solstice is my favorite day of the year. No, seriously it is and has been for a very long time. Why? Because it is the beginning of the end of the miserable darkness in the northern hemisphere, that's why! (Don't ask about it's evil twin in June.) My happiness comes at a cost however. To explain why, I like to share stories, stories that might teach a lesson, perhaps warm the heart and hopefuly hasten the return of the sun. (But don't hold me to any of that.)

I have cranked out a lot of stories over the years but sadly have been too busy to do so this year. (What, you think you can just whip one of these out in a couple hours?! To quote a very good friend of mine, "I have nothing to do and still can't get everything done.") But fear not, I have reached back to update and share one from several years ago. 

I hope you find it reassuring. Behold.

Enjoying the Solstice Fire (Want some S'mores with that grog?)

Finally, a glimmer of hope in this the darkest time of the year. It is no wonder that the early Christian elders appropriated this time of the year for their own use lo those many years ago; you need to give the people what they want - and what they want is to get out of the freaking frigid, dark, endless night of winter! Yes, like those early heathens there is still something to drinking grog, prancing around the fire and praying really, really hard to bring the sun back. 

But here is something you probably didn’t know. Like most good things in western civilization, it was actually the Greeks we need to thank for this wonderful day. Here’s the story.

In Greek mythology the sun god Helios was responsible for assuring that the sun made its daily trip across the sky. It was very good work indeed; as his chariot sped across the globe besides bringing the sun he was to peer into every bedroom in the world and report back to the big gods (and we thought Santa had a tough job!)  And then there was Phaeton. Ah, Phaeton. . .

Phaeton was Helios’ son and as all parents do Helios loved his son dearly. I won’t go into the whole sordid affair but suffice to say that after much wheedling and whining by Phaeton, Helios gave in to him. He gave him the reins to his four magnificent horses and chariot allowing him to take a turn pulling the sun across the heavens. As you might guess, like a teenager driving dad’s car for the first time, it didn’t end well. Yet despite the importance of Helios’ job and the tragedy that was Phaeton’s early morning drive (and dumping horse poop on Mt Olympus was only a small part of that tragedy) there is, oddly, no word about something of even greater importance (at least to me.) What does this have to do with the solstice? Why must the sun go so far to the south of us poor inhabitants of the northern hemisphere? Why does old Sol abandon us just as we need him most in the darkness of December? Why do I drink so heavily this time of the year? Why is life so full of stupid questions? The Greeks never said but lucky for you I have a theory.

I'm sure that after Phaeton’s* rather disastrous and destructive trip around the world, Zeus, Apollo and that old crab Poseidon were really pissed. Aside from Zeus' wife Hera, who thought it was funny, Dionysus was probably the only god who didn’t seem to care - but that was mostly because he was always gassed this time of the year too. In any event, they were all ragging on Helios so much that he did the only thing a guy, er, a god in his position could do - deny, deny, deny! Furthermore, he knew the best defense is always a great offense - so he decided to take the sun and leave.

Helios had always made his trip from west to east - well no more Mr. Nice Guy! He started going in the opposite direction. He also had always gone around right at the equator but enough of that too, he started heading further and further south on his way around the globe. Now this really got the other gods’ attention because as he got further away from the equator it got darker and colder on Mt. Olympus. “Holy $!&%!” I imagine the gods saying, “the dude is going to freeze us to death!” (or something like that.) Just as Helios planned, the gods soon start begging him to come home (no word on how his wife felt) and finally after many lamentations – and the promise to get him a new chariot – he slowly brought his steeds around and headed them back to the north. Sadly, for us (okay, for me) the opposite also holds true as he gets to the other side of the equator but that’s a different lamentation. 

But the story isn’t over, oh no, my friends. To this very day Helios is still exacting his revenge. Sadly, all the other gods retired eons ago and moved to various high government jobs (or Goldman Sachs) so selfless men - men, for example, like me - have had to fill in for the gods. That means we must continue to massage Helios' ego every winter to help us escape the endless darkness and cold of a Minnesota December. We must humbly continue begging, crying and rending our garments at this time of the year to urge him and his huge, pretentious, CO2-spewing, Suburban SUV-like chariot - and life-giving sun - back to our northern climes.

Anyway, check at 9:59 AM CST Tues to make sure it worked for another year.

No need to thank me, I’m just a giver. 

* Also no need to worry about Phaeton. He has been immortalized by naming an interesting combination of vehicles after him: a Rolls Royce, a Volkswagen and an RV. 

PS

Did I mention this year will be the 11th Annual Thomas Neighborhood Solstice S'Mores party hosted by moi and Mrs. Dear Leader? Sadly, many of the little kids in the 'hood when we started this are now sneering teenagers poo pooing my efforts. On the other hand, some new kids have moved into the block so there is that. Besides, the parents still seem to enjoy a S'More (and/or an adult beverage.)

Skol! (or Ya Mas! for you Philhellenists) 

                                                  

  

                        2015  (Ah, you little cretins!)              

 
                                                             2019 (It's midnight, don't you people have a home?!)
                                                

Happy Holidays and a Healthy, Happy New Year to You and Yours!

Your Solar Servant,

Dougopolous (The Playdoh of Thomas Ave.)

Solstice Music (I couldn't decide which so I chose all)

Wonderful Solstice Time    Paul McCartney

Rockin' Around the Solstice Tree    Brenda Lee

Carol of the Solstice Bells    Trans-Siberian Railroad

The Last Leaf

 

My oldest daughter recently sent me something that, at first blush, is perfect for a leaf watching meditation and it certainly is that. Of course, as you will see, this verse can mean different things to different people and for many different reasons.

As for me, as a lot of people have noted, I've had a pretty negative outlook for quite some time (although sadly as one looks around my country, I may have good reason.) So this lovely piece was very timely because it forced me to have an attitude check that I definitely needed. It may not negate the things have made me feel so sour but it reminded me that it's easy to let the minutiae of modern life take on a role well beyond their actual importance.  It said, "Come on, pal, it's time to step back and get a grip, focus on things like family, friends and how you are living your life instead of crap you can't control." Alrighty then!

Obviously and most importantly this contemplation also speaks to the biggest issue for us all and that is dealing with mortality. (Which, of course, looms a bit larger for those of us who are, shall we say, of a "certain age.")

Since the first homosapien watched his or her partner keel over and stop breathing -"Say, what happen to Ugh, he no wake up" - we've asked, is that all there is? From there it was an easy step to start figuring (hoping?) that it couldn't be all there was.  Let's face it, this life can be kind of crappy (and was REALLY crappy for a caveman - even worse for cavewomen!) so that they had to think that we should get some kind of reward for putting up with it, right? That, in fact, we must kind of move on to some new and hopefully better place. Thus, as Homer said some 2800 years ago, "All men have need of the gods." And humans were off to the races to figure out where and what "that place" was with countless gods, religions and destinations. And that's okay. To paraphrase the song, whatever gets you through the long, dark nights is alright.

So her sharing this piece now, serendipitously, was a timely reminder to another poor, sad human in the - ahem - autumn of his life that this one really isn't all there is.

I Asked the Leaf

I asked the leaf whether it was frightened because it was autumn and the other leaves were falling. The leaf told me, "No. During the whole spring and summer I was completely alive. I worked hard to help nourish the tree, and now much of me is in the tree. I am not limited by this form. I am also the whole tree and when I go back to the soil, I will continue to nourish the tree. So I don't worry at all. As I leave this branch and float to the ground, I will wave to the tree and tell her, "I will see you again very soon."

That day there was a wind blowing and, after a while, I saw the leaf leave the branch and float down to the soil, dancing joyfully, because as it floated, it saw itself already there in the tree. It was so happy. 

I bowed my head, knowing that I have a lot to learn from that leaf.

Author: Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Monk

Thank you, Thich Nhat Hanh - and thank you, kiddo. Here's hoping the best of me (what there may be of it) is in our tree too.

            Epilogue: 10/22  - To add to my usual sunny dispostion, I got word from my spinal surgeon today that I am healed - and with very little laying on of hands this time. The return of golf . . .  just in time for cold weather  - but at least I can have long, hot baths again so I got that going for me.          

Oh, and he announced that he is retiring (apparently I'm not totally responsible.)

In any event, I repeat - I am a VERY lucky man!

And now for your musical accompaniment take your pick - you can't go wrong with any of them.

 

Is That All There Is? Bette Midler

 

Whatever Gets You Thru the Night  John Lennon

The Last Leaf   The Cascades (a particular favorite of mine from 1963 when I was in the spring of my life!)

FREEDOM!

Can anyone who has watched the movie “Braveheart” forget that scream by William Wallace at the end of the movie when he is being eviscerated by the king’s men?

Having recently watched the movie again, it started me thinking a lot about the word "freedom" and what it means to we Americans.

As a country we have a unique relationship with and devotion to freedom - we REALLY love it! Freedom in its many forms is enshrined in our Constitution which is both a cause and an effect of that love. In fact, we have gone to war many times to protect it and spent vast fortunes and countless American lives to help others have or keep those same freedoms (although with varying degrees of success in either.)

 
Over the centuries that our country has been in existence we have grown from thirteen colonies with 3 million people (almost exclusively white Europeans - and their slaves, of course) living on farms, to a country of fifty states with a very diverse, mostly urban population of over 330 million. In all that time we have maintained our freedoms. But it took effort. Like all modern democracies we have learned to interpret the idea of freedom to reflect the reality of our lives; the definition of "freedom" has evolved with time and circumstances. For example, we learned to give up a little so-called freedom in order to cooperate for common good, pull together and accomplish great things. It's worked pretty well for over two hundred years as we became the richest, most powerful country in the history of the world. Until recently that is. What has happened to us? 

      How did we go from this . . .

  
  

The difficult times we have endured over the past several years have seemed to harden our hearts and closed our minds. We were once a country driven by hope and optimism.Now, it seems, we are driven by fear and anger - about pretty much everything. Of the right wing, left wing, urban, rural, old folks, young folks, immigrants, the economy, voting, the wealthy, the poor, the homeless, the police, Black Lives Matters, Boogaloo Bois, Antifa, vaccines, masks, science in general. Oh, and smart people.

                                                                 To This?

                                       

 

      

                                                                             

                                                          Then a protest in SUPPORT of 

                                                            these treasonous turds?! 

 The boogey men are as numerous as each of our own individual tribe's beliefs. Fear and anger are spread by the internet that allows us all to be experts at everything - and spread our own version of the truth. They are further inflamed by the political parties and by big media and by social media - all for their benefit. Finally, they are spread by our own laziness in accepting lies as truth. The result is that now even freedom is under assault. It has been cheapened and degraded by our own actions. 

Actions like:

 

Freedom to risk our neighbors health by refusing personal actions that our parents and grandparents would have simply considered sacrifices . . . no, not sacrifices, contributions for the common good. Were they fools?

 

Freedom to inflict our religious beliefs on others. Isn't that what the authors of the constituion wanted to avoid?

Freedom to avoid and silence voices that make us uncomfortable. A college "safe space?" Really, are we so weak minded?

Freedom to make preposterous and dangerous claims without penalty. Do facts and common sense no longer matter? 

Perhaps I'm wrong, maybe these really are examples of the modern American ideal of freedom. If so they're a sad comment on both freedom and us. Even worse, they dishonor the sacrifices others have made for real freedoms over these many years. America, a Beacon of Freedom? Right now it's more like a tiny penlight. Is it any wonder that other countries look at "the world's greatest democracy" and shake their collective heads? 

If you're looking for a solution from me, I'm sorry I don't have one. I'm just an old guy who is sad and frustrated to see a great country, a country for which I gave 28 years of my life in the military, turned into the laughing stock of the world or worse. We are fast becoming the latest example of a once-great country in moral decline - too dumb and arrogant to respect but too rich and well-armed to ignore.  

Kris Kristofferson once wrote about another definition of freedom: "Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose." I doubt William Wallace would cry "freedom!" from anything as petty as wearing a mask or taking a shot . . . but he might agree with Kris. 

And, like Braveheart, we too will have nothing left to lose if we continue to turn freedom into a selfish joke. 

 

(I knew you would't be able to get this song out of you head)

Me and Bobby McGee Janice Joplin

Dougie's Big Adventure at the Hospital or . . .

 

 . . . Sorry, Too Much Time on My Hands

“Have you pee’d today, Mr Pederson? (she pronounced it “PETERson”) asked the nice nurse.   Me, “No.” “Have you farted yet, Mr Pederson?” asked the kindly nurse’s aide. Me, indignantly “No, I have not passed flatus!”

Welcome to potty training, age 73. And welcome to recovery from surgery.

Recently (Jul 28th) I had a  major and fairly complex surgery on my lower back. I used to joke that what I lacked above the shoulders I made up for below them. Ooops, not so much anymore. But allow me to back up to the beginning of this tale of woe.

About a year and a half ago I started gimping around with some stupid pains in my right leg. Luckily, since it happened in FL, nobody actually noticed given all the other geezers gimping around. So like any proud guy . . . I ignored it. 

But not for long. Finally, just to make Mrs Dear Leader happy, I visited her FL chiropractor. (The gall of her, getting mad at me for complaining but not doing anything about it - women! Besides, why DOES she have a handsome young chiropractor in FL anyway? Hmmm.) Anyway, X-ray says blah blah blah, L4-L5, blah blah blah - that will be $150. O-kay, thanks. I shall take it under advisement but I have 9:00 tee time.

Well, we get back to Twin Cities and I'm starting to think I might actually have a problem. I go to a neurologist, have an MRI and he says blah blah blah, L4-L5, blah blah blah - that will be $2000. O-kay, so what do I do? Should I cancel my tee time? (Nahhh.)

So here's the deal, options are: physical therapy, spinal injection or surgery. I decided the spinal injection first. They sound fun; poking a thread-sized needle into a thread-sized nerve in your spinal column - cool. Anyway, unpleasant but helpful - gotta couple more months of golf out of the first one but second one not so much.

Then, just to tidy up while postponing the inevitable, I did physical therapy. PT is a very good idea - core strengthening is really important for a powerful golf swing. It didn't really do much for the pain and I only got another month or so of golf but on the plus side I do look like this old guy so I got that going for me. (Of course now neighborhood husbands don't me go outside without a shirt on - sheesh.)

So like most (guy) patients I fought the notion that I would need to go under the knife. Sort of like the knight in Monty Python’s “Holy Grail” who gets all his appendages chopped off and claims it’s just a flesh wound, I too denied that I had THAT kind of problem. I hemmed and hawed, talked to a couple good surgeons - blah blah blah, L4-L5 blah blah blah - that will be $170,000 - Mein Gott in Himmel! Anyway . . . here I am and a what journey it's been.

Having never had surgery (if you don’t count the one that stops babys from happening - and which is yet another procedure that requires dropping any pretense of modesty) all I had to go on was the reassuring voices of friends who had had the same surgery: “OMG, the recovery is so awful, you’re going wish you had died!” “Geez, the pain is like child birth” (not sure how he knew that.) Finally, “Wow, the drugs are really wonderf . . z z.” Sadly, only the first two matter.

With those grim images in my brain I went ahead anyway – the stupid leg pain was really starting to affect my backswing. (As the lovely Mrs Dear Leader would say, “Does everything in life have to relate to golf?” Silly woman, yes, of course!)

So, pre-surgery physical – check. Covid test (negative) – check. Confirmed insurance coverage and/or papers assigning custody of oldest child to the doctor – check. (Sorry, kiddo, but I’m sure you want your dad to golf again, right?)

Day of surgery, one simple job: remember your birthdate because you will be required to repeat it 1,021 times. (Even then I still wasn’t sure towards the end.) My last memory of actual surgery was the very kind anesthesiologist waltzing in asking how we were all doing. I apparently had been entertaining her assistants because when I said, “We’re having a gas!” they and I laughed. 

She quickly put me under. (I guess she’d heard that one before.)

Hours, days, weeks later? Who knows but I woke up in some boring room with a bunch of other stiffs lying around. I use the term advisedly but I guess it wasn’t the morgue because they finally pushed me to my room.

That’s when the fun really begins! IV’s, catheters, drain tubes, monitors - it’s like the scene in “The Right Stuff” when the bold astronauts look like buffoons with tubes stuck in every orifice. Modesty? Pride? Ha, I spit on them! Oh yeah, and I walked that very same evening – if you call staggering in the halls for 5 minutes dragging hardware around walking. Hey, time to go home yet?

Two days later - after 2 nights of being awakened every two hours for drugs, to check vitals or just for the hell of it - I did. I had spent several hours of intensive training (okay, 15 min’s) practicing rolling over in bed, getting in and out of the shower, the toilet and a car. Oh yeah, and how to put on underpants without bending over - very handy! Anyway, they said I was the fastest study ever (but I think they say that to everyone given my inability to remember which foot goes first, the good one or the bad one, when going up and down stairs.) Then, after apparently purchasing a walker I never used (and still haven’t) and a boat load of drugs I do use, I was sent home. Yes, yes, I had pee’d and passed flatus too. (No need to dwell on bodily functions.)

The days are pretty much the same at home as at the hospital except for the décor – and having a loving care giver take care of things. I kid you not, it’s hard to imagine going through this alone. In fact, impossible. Sure, I’m a  wonderful, easy going, low maintenance kind of guy . . .  Dear, you know I like my bologna sandwich cut corner to corner not crosswise! And where's the Miracle Whip?! Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. So I owe Mrs. D L a lot and if she ever needs this kind of help I will spare no expense to find someone to provide it! 

Speaking of recovery, it's nice of folks to keep in touch with me especially my kids. I mean we talk (well, text)  pretty often but this is kinda different, they are actually checking up on me and that feels good. Of course it's not like I expect them to help change my Depends (yet) but still it's nice.

Then there are my so called "neighborhood buddies." Ah yes, always ready with wise counsel and help. To keep my spirits up they even created all sorts of  (allegedly) humorous gifs with my face inserted. Sure, most of them make fun of my shuffling walk and disheveled look but mockery is good, it proves they love me, right? Right?!

Executive Committee - Thomas Ave MENSA Club

Clearly, people you can depend on for good advice (cue "Dueling Banjos")

So here we are. You can see a little more progress everyday and that’s all it takes with us silly, optimistic humans. I had one horrific night early in the process when we somehow got behind the power curve on pain killer - something I can assure that you will only let happen once! It's a minimum 3 month recovery so I'm by no means done with it yet but smooth-ish sailing so far.

I gotta mention the clinic staff at Twin Cities Spine and at Abbott NW hospital. Companies - especially health care companies - all claim they care about customer service but these folks actually mean it. Absolutely the best.

Finally, there's this regarding my surgeon. Ever notice that everyone always says they had the best doctor this, the best surgeon that - yada, yada, yada? That’s impossible, of course, everybody can't have the the same procedure with a different doctor and still have the best one - duh! Besides someone had to finish last in every med school class too so there is that.  But I digress. All I know is my guy, Doctor T, put in a full day of surgery and rounds – and he’s no spring chicken - then stopped by with the newspaper that evening and chatted because he remembered I had told him I don’t sleep well unless I read the funnies last thing at night. Try to top that! As a bonus he's a damn fine surgeon. (Of course in some countries, for the kind of money this cost, I could have purchased my very own surgeon - and they would throw in the walker.)

Oh yeah, in case you're curious, all my original symptoms and pains are gone.

So that's my story. What does it all mean?  Well, like so many things in life, perhaps not much. I told my good friend, who shall remain anonymous, (Hint: but lives in Vegas) that I was really bored sitting around recovering. He thought that it would be a great idea to fill my time writing about it and then inflict it on others so you can blame him for this. (With ideas like that it's a wonder he has any friends.)

But maybe there is a morale to the story after all though. If this was 100 yrs or even 50 years ago good old Dougie would probably have had to accept living in pain the rest of his life. I have often said that my generation is the luckiest in the history of the world. That said, then I am the luckiest guy I have ever met or heard of!

Anyway, in the end, life really is like golf . . . 

 . . . Expensive , Time Consuming and Frustrating - so enjoy it when you can!

 Cabo del Sol - Ocean Course   #6

FORE! (hopefully in 3 months)

Recovery Music

Babys    Back on my Feet Again

Babyboomer Presidents

 Baby Boomer Presidents

I’m a baby boomer, as are most of my friends along with about 20% of the American population. You know, this huge group that, as Ken Dychtwald so elegantly put it, is moving through our society like a pig through a python - and many of us are now staring at the tail! Something recently dawned on me. We had four consecutive presidents from my generation (before we backed up one generation for the current one.) That's 28 years of baby boomer presidential leadership: two Democrats, one Republican and an “Other.” Surely, we can draw some conclusions about how they did now.  

So who are these guys?

                        First, Bubba.

 
 If you advertised for the position of baby boomer president, William Jefferson Clinton (young, born 1946) would probably be precisely the kind of person that you would want. From a humble background, he was highly educated, fancied himself a visionary, new age thinker and was a brilliant politician. He out-thought and out-flanked the Republicans at every turn; he was able to defeat a sitting president (who had just won a war, no less!) He did this because he understood how people think and what they want - and made them THINK he could get it for them. He was also lucky - the 90's brought a booming economy (due mostly to demographics - thanks again, boomers!) 

So with a strong economy and budget surpluses he was re-elected with an opportunity to really propel the country into the next millennium on the proper trajectory. Instead . . . he will be remembered more for Monica Lewinsky than his policy brilliance - a YALE-educated lawyer who quibbled over what the meaning of “is” is. 

He was a man who was so morally shallow that he couldn’t manage to keep his most basic urges under wraps until he at least got out of office. Just as Nixon’s Watergate consumed his last 2 years in office, the sex scandal and his impeachment caused Clinton to lose focus on the important issues such as the growth of terrorism and looming income inequality from continuing policies that started under Reagan. Perhaps the worst legacy of his downfall is the damage done to the mindset of the nation’s voters and from that we got our second baby boomer president.

Bill Clinton ended up being an empty suit.

Next Up, W                                                                                                       “W”

                                  .                                     

George W. Bush (Born 1946) After Clinton, Bush was quite a change. He came from political royalty and carried the title of “compassionate conservative” on his sleeve as clearly as his evangelical zeal. In an election against another baby boomer (and Harvard grad, Al Gore) he was the first president in 112 years to lose the popular vote - by 500,000 - but win the electoral college. Despite his somewhat slacker image  his response to 9/11 showed a depth of character that seemed unexpected. In addition, he used his newfound popularity and power to achieve a number of political breakthroughs such as tax cuts (mostly for the rich) and new benefits for seniors - unfortunately, both unfunded. In short, George W Bush, Yale AND Harvard educated, seemed to be the exact opposite - and much more desirable - example of a baby boomer and then . . . the disastrous Iraq war.

As more time passes it’s obvious that his Iraq adventure was the terrible mistake that many of us felt at the time. With the fighting still raging in Afghanistan (another mistake which, 20 years later, is just now ending)  it was wrong in all aspects: wrong time, wrong decision, wrong strategy and wrong execution. On the domestic front two unfunded wars, tax cuts and massive entitlement spending were the beginning of such huge and growing deficits that it became difficult to imagine how we would ever bring them under control (sadly, they’ve only gotten worse.) He encouraged the deregulation of the banks which, of course, would later lead to a deep credit crisis. This series of terrible mistakes may have been a function of his limited capabilities or the people he surrounded himself with - neo-cons and reactionaries - but the results are the same, America’s future became a lot less certain.

Despite all that, George too was still able to get re-elected. Proof of what? You guessed it - American voters are dopes. More proof? The worst recession since the Great Depression and “Great job, Brownie!” on Hurricane Katrina.

Bush too was an empty suit.

                      Hope and Change

Could anyone be more different from Bush than Barack Obama? (Born 1961 - in the US) Actually, more different that Clinton too. Obama came in with great fanfare, the whole hope and change thing; our first black – okay, half black – president.  He was a great (if teleprompted speaker) and a very good politician. After the disaster of the Bush years, he was almost guaranteed to at least look good.

He inherited two wars and a battered economy so he had almost nowhere to go but up and in some ways he probably did as good as he could given the messes he inherited - including the cretinous Mitch McConnell-led Republicans. With the economy in tatters he was kind of in triage mode however it did recover and was in decent shape when handed off to the next boomer president.

  

Yet it is in “leadership” that he failed the most. He came into office with his party in control of all branches and an opportunity to put his “hope and change” theme into action. What do we get? Who continued the wars and Guantanamo detention? Who had his own “surge" in Afghanistan? Who okayed drone attacks on people in foreign countries and approved continued spying on US and allied citizens. Remember: this from a guy who won the Nobel Peace prize!  What the . . .?!

And Obamacare, his “signature” accomplishment, was a healthcare law that was so convoluted, complicated and ineffective (at first) that it almost, ALMOST makes the Republican histrionics about it seem okay.  He could have used his rhetorical skills and charisma to craft something that really would have altered the way we do things but instead took the easy way by allowing the worst kind of sausage making in Congress to get a bill, any bill, passed. (Of course, it turned out far better than the Republicans plan which was zero.) In addition, income inequality grew even more on his watch. And don't get me started on the banking industry – not a single, sociopath banker went to jail or even lost their bonus on his watch. Yowser! 

His record and the country is now that much the worse for it. Yet again a baby boomer president was rewarded with a second term despite a lot of  evidence to the contrary. In many ways Obama was the most disappointing of the lot – until now. I guess, in the end, he was a nice guy and another HARVARD educated lawyer - but also an empty suit.

Fourth Straight Baby Boomer                                                              And Oh Boy!                                                                                    

Finally, it’s not unusual for Americans to elect people (all men so far) to the presidency who are congenitally unqualified for the position - we are nothing if not optimists - but what a doozy Donald J Trump is! (Born 1946) He lost the popular vote - by 3 million this time - and like Bush Jr he too won only by the Electoral College. An extraordinary liar (even by politician’s standards) plagued by the Dunning-Krueger effect, off the scale narcissist, total lack of any sense of morality (again, against the low standards of politicians) and no noticeable ability or interest in management. Oh yeah, and he made George W look like Winston Churchill in speaking ability! Finally, on Jan 6^th he singlehandedly managed to lead an assault on the government in a way not experienced in our 233 years as a republic.

To his credit, he did strike a chord with a large minority of Americans who have felt (rightly) marginalized or forgotten. Sadly, not only did he not help them, he took advantage of their adoration like the grifter he is. Even worse, he imbued them with a distrust of democracy that will plague us for years. Oddly - since it is after all America - he didn’t get re-elected. (No, really, he did NOT get re-elected.)

As a positive he didn't attend Harvard or Yale. (In fact, there's no evidence that he actually went to college.)

His signal achievement was to make all previous presidents – and current one too - look better. 

Empty suit cannot properly describe his presidency.

 

Conclusion: 1946 was a bad year for babyboomers?

Okay, seriously, how are we baby boomer’s doing in our first opportunities to lead the country? Well, I would say so far these guys have done a better job of exposing most of our generation’s worst features rather than our best. Among them: over-educated arrogance, self-centeredness, immature world views and overconfidence in our abilities. 

People sometimes forget that JFK was the first president who was born in the 20^th century. He was far from perfect but he brought youthful energy and a 20^th century mindset to the office. I had high hopes for my generation, that our “best and brightest” would do the same for the 21^st century. I thought we - the luckiest generation in the history of the WORLD - would repay our good fortune by being good stewards of our country. Instead, we decided to pull up the ladder behind us . . . and offered empty suits (or worse) to the country. Great sigh.

Perhaps we can redeem ourselves if we can get a female baby boomer in there, someone that is not an empty suit. (NOTE: this is not a call for Hillary!) But it better be soon or otherwise I guess you're up, Gen Xer’s and good luck.

PS
 And please, no more Ivy League guys – how about UMD or St Cloud State?!

Music to fit the mood . . .

Abraham, Martin and John   Dion

Father's Day and Summer Solstice

  . . . Bad Combo!

Insult to injury for Father's Day?

Father’s Day and the summer solstice, on the same damn day! I wonder if there is a hidden message or meaning to this  . . . "coincidence."

Everyone knows that Father’s Day is the least important of all the made up holidays. Don't believe me? Then how come all the FD greeting cards say, "Dear Dad . . . Who Cares, XoXo?!” Also, you can count on one hand the number of times you see a kid waving and yelling “Hi dad” on tv, it’s always “Hi mom!” And that’s okay, that’s the way it should be, dads are meant to toil in familial obscurity. We can’t compete with a mother’s love so all we can do is try to compete with brute sincerity - and the occasional game of hoops or playing catch. A dad’s love may not make for clever Hallmark cards but that doesn’t make it any less real (just a little less obvious.)

So we get this one day a year to pretend like we are an equal partner in the hearts of our family and what happens? It’s accompanied by the worst day of the year, the summer solstice! Don’t believe me? Think about this:

10:31AM Sun June 20th

Yes, this is just around the corner, pal!

Unlike its winter alter ego which signals the beginning of hope, the summer solstice signals the opposite. Minnesota summer: endless, lazy days with blue skies and puffy, white, fair weather clouds. Days of long, perfect drives down the middle of the fairway and short putts. (Forget that first part. Okay, also the second part.) Of short nights with cool breezes by the lake and the Milky Way shimmering above. Of girls in tank tops and men in speedos. (Now forget that last thing too.) Then, at its peak - and the solstice comes along and robs us of this magic, laughing as it does so and replacing it with the long slide to the depths of winter. Oh, the humanity!

That not bad enough for you? Then think about this: the solstice is always about this same time every year - and has been for, like, a pretty long time - yet someone (Ugly cargo shorts designers or golf club makers?) in the US  invented Father’s Day in 1908 and parked it right next to this lugubrious date. Since nobody cares why not plop it down in August (like Taiwan) or March (like Lichtenstein), or any other months without holidays. Hmmm? 

Exactly - it’s a test! One day a year a dad gains a bit of stature as the other adult in the house – and it’s quickly snuffed out by the gloom that comes with the summer solstice. How will I react to this outrage? Will I snivel and whine about my fate? Will I complain about yet another snub to my male ego? Will I declare the victim-hood I have earned? No, damn it, no! This is where I prove to my family that an American dad can accept the abuse the gods heap on me with the calm and dignity that has made me a legend at every sporting event of my kids; it's evidence that my cluelessness to most domestic dramas is just my way of staying neutral and, finally, proof that offering a clumsy hug is my way of kissing to make it better. It is a test I shall pass with a strong C+!

In any event I wish a Happy Father’s Day to all my fellow dads. We may be overweight and underappreciated but we love and are loved and that will always do. Besides, only six months to the winter solstice!

P.S.

Now that they have officially added the very joyous Juneteenth celebration to this sad PITTS (Point in Time That Sucks) let us hope that the solstice doesn't screw up that holiday too.)  

On a positive note . . .

My Role Model

                                           

Marvelous Marv, the only guy who could foxtrot to anything.

28 years gone and I still miss you very much, pop - you old smoothie!

All of Me   Willie Nelson

Memorial Day 2021 – Celebrating the End of Two Wars

 Part I

Warriors Helping Their Neighbors

Memorial Day this year has special significance, it’s the 50^th anniversary as an official national holiday that is dedicated to honor those who have died in service to their country. As such it is among our most solemn and saddest of holidays. Yet this year there are two great events to actually celebrate. First, after 20 long years, all our troops will finally be home from Afghanistan!

I have shared before my thoughts on the futility and senselessness of nearly all wars and especially this latest one, the longest in our history. (See Part II below) As a retired officer with 28 years of service and a participant in three such wars I feel some license to do so. At the same time, I pay the highest honor to my fellow vets and current members of the military who have sacrificed so much for so long.

Welcome home, troops!

This Memorial Day we have something else to recognize. While we pay homage to those who have served in the military, it is also important this year to remember the thousands of grandparents, parents, siblings, spouses and children who died in a war against a silent, remorseless enemy as deadly as any we have ever fought.

This past year has been a terrible challenge yet it also offered the rest of us a unique chance to step up much as our military does when called. In a very real sense, this past year we civilians were given the opportunity to play a somewhat similar role when we were all called to battle in a once-a-century war. With a few distasteful exceptions, like our military most of us rose to the occasion - and the end of this war is also now in sight!

I want to express my gratitude to my fellow Minnesotans who were trying to do the difficult but right things throughout this terrible ordeal like our troops do. Obviously, it’s not a perfect comparison but, for example, like the troops who face very difficult conditions for years nearly every American family made large and difficult changes that totally upended their lives. Also like our troops, who will do anything to protect their comrades, most of us accepted many new and uncomfortable public behaviors simply to protect our relatives and neighbors. Perhaps more importantly, we had a relatively small group of individuals (many of whom are among our lowest paid workers) who trudged to work in person every day - at great risk to themselves - to feed, clothe and care for us and our most vulnerable citizens. And we can’t forget the countless millions of jobs and businesses across the country that were forfeit in this war - while most of us were able to continue working.

Finally, like those in the military who make the ultimate sacrifice, we too had thousands of healthcare providers who gave their lives while trying to save others. As with the military, there is no sufficient way of repaying them for that sacrifice.

So, on the 50^th anniversary of this usually sad holiday, and even as we mourn those we have lost, there is much to be grateful for. As important, I hope we have all learned – or relearned - an important lesson from this experience. That is, there is always hope if we have patience, perseverance and are willing to sacrifice for a larger cause than self.

Finally, as we bask in the joy that two wars are finally ending, I hope we can keep alive the faint but earnest hope that one day we will no longer need a Memorial Day, at least for wars.

Part II

The Long Endless Line of Fallen Hero's

"Thoughts on Taps." 

I have posted this on several past Memorial Days because I have never been able to find a better expression of my feelings about this sacred day. To those of you that have read it before and grow weary, I apologize. To others, I hope it strikes a chord. 

“War is young men dying and old men talking. You know this. Ignore the politics.”

Odysseus to Achilles in the movie “Troy.”

I can’t listen to Taps and not tear up. It doesn’t matter how many times I hear it I always cry a little. Oddly, I’m not sure sometimes why I’m crying. Is it because of the magnificent mournful sound that so perfectly matches the feeling of saying farewell to a warrior? Or am I crying for all the loved ones left behind – the millions and millions over the years? Sometimes, I think I’m crying for something else; maybe I’m crying for  myself.

That may sound silly, or worse, completely selfish and maybe it is. Yet I can't help the feeling that ultimately I'm crying because Taps reminds me that the world never seems to change for the better. No matter how many heroes - and they are heroes - pay the ultimate price, war always demands more from us. Worse, it is always our young that it craves. Worst of all, we proudly of offer them up.

Maybe I'm sad that someone somewhere will always be able to make complete strangers kill each other for the same reasons over and over. It is like an eternal WWI battle that rages on the same, small piece of ground in perpetuity. This piece of ground is a devastated moral landscape that refuses to learn any lesson that might spare our youth. Instead one generation, like some militant Sisyphus, pushes the rock of war up one side of the hill only to have it roll back on the next. No matter how just, proud or righteous that rock is, it still remains a monument to all the worst aspects of us poor, belligerent humans. That should make us all sad.  

I spent 28 years in the military and my son has also served honorably; I am proud of our time in the service. Someday Taps will be played for both of us but it isn't that which makes me sad. It is knowing that melancholy song will need to be played for endless future generations that will always make me cry. For that I am not ashamed.