Tuesday, September 29, 2015

"Wouldn't It Be Nice"

About twenty years ago, Kathie and I were invited by Phil Gonring to be his guests at a gala dinner for Denver's movers and shakers honoring important teachers out of their pasts.  We met Phil at the old Hilton ballroom and sat at a table with, among others, Jared Polis, who at that time was just a fabulously wealthy internet entrepreneur beginning to get interested in politics, education in particular.  I remember Katherine tried to hit him up for a grant, but to no avail.

It was a lovely event.  It was unlike most events I've been to honoring teachers.  We didn't have to walk through a line and put slices of pizza on our paper plates, and instead of a giant transparent tank of punch in shades of pink, we were served wine and could even go up to a bar and get a drink.  To top it all off, there wasn't a power point projector anywhere in sight and no butcher paper.  Bill Cosby spoke instead.

We were looking forward to The Coz, but his speech was the only disappointment of the night.  He got up on that stage and commenced to commiserate with all of the noble educators gathered there.  He praised us for our determination to fight for the kids in the face of antediluvian authorities who are systematically bent on destroying public education.  He praised us for performing in appalling conditions, in over-crowded classrooms, and in buildings falling apart for lack of care.

As he was talking, it slowly dawned on all of us that this man had no idea what he was talking about.  His descriptions of public schools, dysfunctional buildings, and rampaging kids was right out of BLACK BOARD JUNGLE, maybe TO SIR WITH LOVE, but certainly nothing that any of us in that room had experienced.  Instead of addressing the very real issues confronting education, Cosby just reacted to his Hollywood generated conception of schools.  He relied on speaking points that missed the mark time and time again.  I almost felt sorry for him when he clearly couldn't understand why he wasn't killing.  Judging by recent developments in Cosby's life, you think he would have learned to stop feeding lines and assorted crap to his victims.

He thought if he fed off our anger about education he would be a success.  The thing was that we really weren't very angry.  We were well fed, a little high, and in the company of our favorite people, star students.

I've been taping Colbert and watching each morning.  I have heard him talk to Jeb Bush, Joe Biden, Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, Ted Cruz, and Donald Trump.  And after each conversation I thought of Bill Cosby telling us what he thought we wanted to hear on that night twenty years ago.

I will start out by saying they all seemed like nice people, even Trump.  Jeb and Ted seemed very uncomfortable, as if their staffs had insisted they appear against their wishes.  Joe seemed exactly like Joe.  He was funny, wore his heart on his sleeve and always said exactly what he meant.  Poor guy.  That's why he hasn't a prayer of getting the nomination.  Trump was witty, with a confidence bred of billions of dollars, and he did a nice job of spelling out his fantasy of a 2000 mile wall paid for by Mexico.  Elizabeth Warren was an emotional basket case who actually left Colbert a little embarrassed and completely speechless.

That brings me to Bernie.   I agree with almost everything he says, just not the way he says it.  Quite frankly, I don't see that much difference between his progressive rage and the conservative recalcitrance he decries.

A recent Daily Beast article explains that Bernie has a solid lead over Hillary among college types.  To offer evidence, they followed Bernie to one of his raucous campus events and interviewed a handful of attendees, asking them to explain Bernie's appeal.  What follows is a list of paraphrased quotes.

-I like Bernie's message on the environment and inequality.
-He's not making compromises in his vision
-Wants 12 weeks medical leave
-Wants to raise the minimum wage to $15/hour
-Wants to expand Social Security
-Wants to increase funding for jobs, education, etc.
-Wants to force (!) publicly funded elections by insisting (!!) any Supreme Court nominee pledge (!!!) to undo Citizens United
-Wants to raise taxes on the top tenth of the top one per cent.

Favorite Bernie quote among the audience:  "While they have the money and the power, we have something they don't have.  We have the people."

I agree with almost everything, but I think messages get lost when they are shouted at you.  Now, I believe Bernie's shouting is legitimate rage.  I feel it.  Most people I know feel it.  But it's still shouting and the message gets lost.  Sometimes, like in the case of the Republican field, a candidate shouts because he has no message and he wants his audience to simply feel the rage.  Let's hope they come to their senses and realize their method destroys the country, and it doesn't do the Republican party any good to boot.

I've been working on "Wouldn't It Be Nice" by the Beach Boys.  It think it is the quintessential rock song and should be Bernie's campaign anthem.  But he needs to be careful.  There are a couple of chords in the verse that are nearly impossible to play.


Saturday, September 26, 2015

I Know My Religious Shit

There are these terrific people from St. Louis, Terry and Ellen, who stay a week at Jenny during our stay.  They've been going there longer than we have and they always bring Father Robert (I'm pretty sure that is his first name), a long time family friend, with them and put him up in his own cabin.  If you know the rates at Jenny Lake Lodge, you will agree with me that Terry and Ellen are building up big time points in their heavenly bank account with their largesse.

Terry usually shows up in the lodge around six in the morning to pick up some coffee for his group and we sit for a moment by the fire and visit about yesterday's golf game and today's hike.  My favorite chat this past summer happened the day after Pope Frances compared the excesses of capitalism to the dung of the devil.  Trust me, the vast majority of the guests at Jenny Lake Lodge are raging capitalists or they couldn't afford to be there, so it was clear that Terry was not pleased that the Vicar of Christ had basically condemned his life style (Actually, he only condemned capitalism's "excesses", not the thing itself.).

"Ya know, Christ hung out with rich people too," Terry said with confidence.

"That's right," I agreed, "like when he was kicking them out of the temple or comparing their chances of heaven to camels getting through needle eyes."  I didn't really say that.  I try really hard to refrain from news and politics of any description when I'm in the Tetons, but it took all my Christian charity to refrain.

I can't say I'm surprised by the conservative reaction to Pope Frances.  Rick Santorum must be going crazy.  Bill O'Reilly as well.  All those folks who want to defund Planned Parenthood, build a wall, and deport children simultaneously must be pissed.  The Pope evidently doesn't agree with them.  He even has suggested the possibility of forgiving abortions.  Has the whole world gone mad?

I am also not in the least surprised by the Pope's pronouncements.  I am the product of a Catholic boyhood.  The sacristy at Our Lady of the Mountain in Estes Park was my second home.  I was trained by Jesuits at Regis (You ever notice how didn't just go to a Jesuit school, you get trained by one?).  I hung out with Fathers Boyle and Maginnis at Ernie's at 44th and Federal.  Tom Steele baptized by first child.  So Pope Frances is what I would have expected of a Jesuit.

All the Jesuits I've known (lots) share some commonalities.  They are, to a man, remarkably erudite.  They are articulate.  They care a lot more about Aquinas and Augustin than they do about passing judgement on others.  In their theology classrooms, God was almost an afterthought.  They understood that there are precious few clear cut moral choices.  They drank great scotch and told ribald stories into the late hours of the night.  They were also deeply spiritual.  They knew the theology.  They practiced what they preached.

Frances is just reminding us who Christ really was.  What he really taught.  Contrary to what they would have you believe, He was not a capitalist.  Nor was he a socialist.  He was a humanist; that's what transubstantiation is all about.  At least that is the understanding I took away from 27 hours of theology and one incredibly gruesome reading of SUMMA TEOLOGICA.  He is saying all these great things, these seemingly liberal things, but if I know my Jesuits there is nothing liberal about them.  He's just speaking truth.

There was this great moment on Colbert's tribute to the Pope show the other night.  When Colbert asked Andrew Sullivan (one of my heroes) how difficult it was to reconcile his homosexuality with his Catholicism, Sullivan responded that it was his Catholicism that forced him to "come out."  Sullivan's Catholicism, he said, trained him to be honest, to be a truth teller, and to have courage.

I am not a practicing Catholic.  Far from it.  But I do know my religious shit.  I have Jesuits to thank for that.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Butterflies Get Sick And Die


Ursula is dead.

Kathie informed me about an hour ago and I just this minute walked out to the back yard to confirm her diagnosis.

There she was in the large planter base (or whatever you call the plate things that pots drain into) covered with the grass Willa and Jaydee fed her last Thursday, her larval stage a curled up, withered, and blackened husk of what it was just four days ago.

Her existence was in question from the moment Willa found her crawling toward The Girl Garden in the back yard, Jaydee prompting her along with a blue Tonka mini pick-up.  Willa quickly bent down to show her sister how to pet the little crawly thing and she was really gentle with the beast until it slithered onto the palm of her hand.  It was only a little flinch, but the would be butterfly was dashed to the ground.

I transferred the creature to the plant thing in hopes of prolonging her life long enough for Willa and Jaydee  to get a good fix of Nature and gathered them around to look at it as though in a frame.  Willa dubbed her Ursula and the two girls spent a good fifteen minutes gathering grasses from around the yard to put in Ursula's new home.

During dinner later on, we all took turns looking in on Ursula.  She didn't move much and when she did it was usually to flop on her back, little feet wiggling in the air.  Jaydee ignored her, moving on to other things.  Willa was determined to prod her back to a more lively state. Ken was skeptical.  I, having been to a butterfly farm in Belize where the guide assured us over and over that butterflies--all of them--get sick and die, was more resigned to Ursula's fate and poured myself another sangria.

The problem is I pick Willa up at school today and take her to our house to hang out until one or both of her parents picks her up and I don't know what I should do about Ursula.  Katherine is in favor of tossing Ursula into the bushes, betting that Willa will never notice.

I am more apt to take the Jack Nicholson approach to this situation:  "While transferring the insect out of the planter, Colonel Martenson, is expedient and efficient, it isn't exactly the American Way!"

No, I think this might be a great moment to teach Willa (Jaydee might be a little too young for the lesson to really sink in) about the ephemeral nature of life.

"Gramps, where's Ursula?  What happened to Ursula?"

"Ursula's dead.  She got all black and dried up and I threw her in the bushes."

You don't want to pull any punches when you're teaching kids a lesson.  Just lay it out for them.  But be compassionate.  You'll notice I'm not going to opt for the make-her-feel-so-guilty-she'll-crumple approach.

"Gramps, what happened to Ursula?"

"You kept touching her and she died."  

A little harsh you think?  Hey, it's a tough world out there.