As our public life devolves into chaos and confusion, we have to search for bright spots in unrelated places. At times like this, I turn to my overgrown stash of travel photos from around the world. (Click here to see more.) The above photo was taken early one warm autumn morning in Ubeda, Spain. The haloed street lights, the "bright spots," invited the visitor to stroll and explore.
A July Potpourri of Bright Spots
July 2018
Shortly after Richard Nixon resigned the presidency under threat of impeachment in 1974, his successor, Gerald Ford, addressed the nation. Only one line from that brief speech has stuck with me: "My fellow Americans, our long national nightmare is over." At that point, across the country, the relief was almost palpable.
Our current nightmare is far from over--and far worse, more dangerous, than anything we could have imagined in 1974. In the meantime, we need to capture bright spots wherever we find them. Sometimes they're unexpected--like the bison sighting on a Marine base. Sometimes they're in a clever turn of phrase that turns the humdrum day of a poll worker into a comical look at the human condition.
But there are other bright spots, too, in increased activism all across the country--protests, marches, volunteerism, political groups that band together to study issues and take action; in a social gathering where outrage morphs into mockery and communal stress relief; in a drive home through the rolling hills of Ohio countryside.
Here, a few snippets of American life in the time of government by ignorance and chaos ...
Our current nightmare is far from over--and far worse, more dangerous, than anything we could have imagined in 1974. In the meantime, we need to capture bright spots wherever we find them. Sometimes they're unexpected--like the bison sighting on a Marine base. Sometimes they're in a clever turn of phrase that turns the humdrum day of a poll worker into a comical look at the human condition.
But there are other bright spots, too, in increased activism all across the country--protests, marches, volunteerism, political groups that band together to study issues and take action; in a social gathering where outrage morphs into mockery and communal stress relief; in a drive home through the rolling hills of Ohio countryside.
Here, a few snippets of American life in the time of government by ignorance and chaos ...
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Richmond (Wayne County), Indiana
Richmond (Wayne County), Indiana
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Like so much of what used to be the vibrant heart of the country, my hometown struggles now. When I left in 1963, the population was about 45,000; returning many years later I found hollowed-out neighborhoods in a town of fewer than 37,000 souls. There were, of course, upscale areas of manicured lawns and sprawling houses and others that typified the middle-class American dream. But abandoned homes, their large front porches sagging into weed infested yards littered with dead branches and the detritus of difficult lives, were far too common. To one who had grown up, gone to college, and spent her early adult years there, it felt inexplicably like an assault.
There were hopeful signs--a new gleaming hospital, for instance--but much remained to be done. I returned again last year, and while the area still struggles, progress continues. Empty storefronts still line Main Street, but they're interrupted by the occasional brave startup: signs of hope. Meanwhile, the Wayne County chapter of Indivisible has been active and has some suggestions for us. Here are some of them: |
Standing beside an overpass, this sign directs visitors to Richmond's developing historic district
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WHAT CAN WE DO???
(Excerpts)
By Bob Delaney
Wayne County, Indiana, Indivisible
(Excerpts)
By Bob Delaney
Wayne County, Indiana, Indivisible
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DON’T FEED THE ANIMALS:
You know when you feed the animals they hang around, and they don’t when you don’t. It’s the same for the narcissistic egomaniac Divider-in-Chief who presently is POTUS. The sound of his name, positive or negative, feeds and sustains him. What should we call POTUS? I was using “#45" and this gravitated to the shorter “45" until I learned POTUS liked this handle and had cufflinks made with these numbers thereon, and wears them. So I thought about it and came up with “Divider-in-Chief," very appropriate, but a little long. So I moved to the acronym, i.e. “DIC”. I will use the acronym “DIC” for Divider-in-Chief hereafter. ACTION #1: Never use DIC’s first or last name. Develop the habit of calling him “POTUS” or “DIC," depending on your sensitivities. Decline to support his narcissistic egomania. |
UNDERSTAND THAT LANGUAGE MATTERS:
It has long been known that he who controls the language, controls the debate. Look at the different message in the following words: AVOID USE Tax Cuts Tax Massacre Immigrants (Infestors) Refugees Fake News Non-fact based news Pres./#45 Divider-in-Chief (DIC) Or let your opinion show by how you refer to an entity: Entity Name Alternate Reference Fox News Pox News EPA EDA (Environmental Destruction Agency) ACTION #2: Study and use appropriate words to represent the common good, the people’s agenda, the majority of our country’s opinion. |
A state-of-the-art hospital, Reid Health, stands in marked contrast to many of the town's struggling neighborhoods in my home town in Indiana. It was the first hospital I'd been in (not as a patient, fortunately) that had spacious all-private rooms, laptop computer "trays" for patients, and comfortable couches and chairs for guests.
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San Diego County, California
San Diego County, California
For pure fun, there's this from Marcia Kern and Marty Stern (I call them the KernSterns just to keep things simple): "Some good friends and enthusiastic Mike Levin supporters had a party. The highlight was a piñata made by one of their guests. Inside were plastic liquor bottles, candy bars, and some of the stupidest quotes uttered by our orange leader. It took several good whacks to open him up and let the contents spew forth."
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From a Highway Through the Rolling Hills of Ohio
A REFLECTION
on the 4th of July
By Mike Stratton
(a Facebook post)
From a Highway Through the Rolling Hills of Ohio
A REFLECTION
on the 4th of July
By Mike Stratton
(a Facebook post)
I live in a rather unusual place, I realize while driving home from Mom and Dad's house on this sultry Fourth. Some of those I pass on the road are reaching toward the optimistic future, confident in the endless well of human potential, unafraid of the unknown. Some I see are clinging to a stifling past, wishing to return to what, I don't really know, segregation? Women kept in the home and out of the workforce? The Confederacy? I can gather this from looking at their swollen trucks and angry bumper stickers.
And then I drive alongside some who have never left the past, living as though modern-convenience and technology were optional, not mandatory. They ride their horse-powered carriages and wear their mandatory clothing, as they trot home from their own unique 4th of July celebration. I wonder what they ate? I would think they ate quite well, because those Amish know food. Me, I will enjoy Sloppy Joes to finish out this mid-summer holiday, because nothing speaks of America like gorging on ground beef and tomatoes, while looking out at the planets, near and far.
And then I drive alongside some who have never left the past, living as though modern-convenience and technology were optional, not mandatory. They ride their horse-powered carriages and wear their mandatory clothing, as they trot home from their own unique 4th of July celebration. I wonder what they ate? I would think they ate quite well, because those Amish know food. Me, I will enjoy Sloppy Joes to finish out this mid-summer holiday, because nothing speaks of America like gorging on ground beef and tomatoes, while looking out at the planets, near and far.
July 2018