back in the day i spent a lot of time on the sidelines of soccer fields, baseball diamonds, basketball courts, tennis courts. under fleece blankets and roasting in the sun, i have listened to coaches coaching and parents of team members instruction-yelling. i have sat on bleachers and watched lessons and warmups and scrimmages and many, many games and tournaments and matches. i have attempted – poorly, i might add – my hand at golf and volleyball, tennis and ping-pong – some quite limited times – and have been instructed with good intention – but with little prowess for application.
the things that i have heard – over and over – and over and over – is to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on the ball.
it makes sense. not only will it help in balance, in appropriate contact with the ball, in prediction of the ball’s trajectory, it keeps you in the game. it’s essential.
in these times – in this country – it would seem the same: to keep your eyes open, to keep your eyes on the ball.
it also seems utterly impossible to do – if you are relying entirely on mainstream – legacy – media. for they, in many ways, have dropped the proverbial ball. they are languaging these days of chaos in milder terms than should be tolerated. they are minimizing and normalizing. it is leaving the reds in red-land where they are fed conspiracy after conspiracy, lie after lie. it is leaving the blues in blue-land where the words describing the actions and intentions of the current administration are sorely lacking in descriptors that even begin to touch the peril in which this country finds itself.
if the course of ten years ago – and since – hadn’t already brought us to the place of question-asking, fact-checking, source-locating, detail-expounding, independent-media-watching/reading/listening, the horror of these days would have pushed us there.
we have encountered many who would just rather not. rather not know, rather not talk about it, rather not deal with it, rather not.
we are simply keeping our eyes on the ball. it will help keep us in balance, in appropriate contact with the game, in prediction of the trajectory.
anything else is the behavior of wishful thinking, the behavior of ostriches, the behavior of people who don’t care what happens to this country, its laws, its land, or its people.
being an informed citizen is essential. let’s keep our eyes open.
to say i am beside myself would be to minimize this moment in history.
what i can’t understand is that this whole ENTIRE country is not beside itself.
what i can’t understand is that half this country is voting for a candidate who has no intention of furthering democracy, no intention of goodness, every intention of autocratic power, the demolition of human rights, acts seeking revenge and retribution.
what i can’t understand is the explaining-away – the sane-washing – the absolute worship of this incoherent, unworthy, unhinged, unfit maga candidate.
what i can’t understand is the hatred, the hideously ugly maga agenda.
what i can’t understand are members of this populace who are unswerving, unconcerned about fascism, about autocratic governing, about abolishing the constitution of this country.
we are the generation that has this moment in our hands. we are the people.
please consider reality.
stop sloughing off all the warning signs that we are standing on a dangerous political precipice.
stop viewing through rose-colored adoring glasses this candidate who could literally give not one sh*t about you – no matter who you are.
stop sickeningly acting like this maga candidate is the second coming. subscribing to that is an insult to your intelligence, an insult to the universe and to any deity you might believe in.
decide if you want fascism or democracy. and, if you decide fascism, research what that really means – for you, your family, your community, your state, your country. and then ask yourself why you would choose such tyrannical ultranationalist extreme ideology.
vote with conscience and with morality, knowing that one day you will no longer stand on this earth but you will have made a difference for those who came behind you, you will have created the world they will live in.
choose that world with great deliberation, meticulously, very, very carefully.
in the same way that the bamboo along the lakeshore is suggestive of a tropical clime, so is this red banana tree. it sort of creates a different reality, for this is wisconsin and – though this summer here might be leaning in a tropical (temperature and humidity) sort of way – it is still wisconsin, after all. we are not known for our beach tiki huts or crowded sandy beaches at spring break. this is the north. and, truth be told, i – in the midst of whatever this thermostat-malfunction-post-menopausal-too-hot thing is – am grateful. but a walk in the very beautiful downtown eichelman park gardens and you will be transported, surrounded by huge tropical leaves, plants dwarfing you. really stunning. they have created a different reality, at least temporarily.
it is the same way that entrepreneurs initiate and grow buzz around a new product or service. one must convince buyers that the offered product is far better than another, that it is superior in value, that it creates a different reality for the consumer. but it’s all made up. it’s just marketing.
when you own a recording label, you are tasked with developing the trajectory of an artist. in my case, that was me. so, with the help of a small amazing staff of dear ones, it was our job to create the bubble – to buzz the albums, to work retail accounts, to attend to radio play, to book concerts and events and stages, to grow, grow, grow. the one thing i refused to do was exaggerate – to get in over my head – to represent myself as something i wasn’t. i didn’t pretend to be part of a giant label or a different genre, for i was proud of my grassroot roots, of the music i created. i was content to take the turtle’s pace and to be sure to actually get where i was going and not be waylaid by fast rabbits offering shortcuts (always exacting a price, never wholesome).
so i find it particularly offensive – no, repugnant – to look at the bombastic campaigning – marketing – that is a part of the maga party. their desire to create an alternate reality in which america is great again is an unfathomable falsehood of gigantic proportion. they are not waylaid by any conscience to the underpinnings of democracy nor do they feel bound by the parameters of truth-telling. the future plans of project 2025 and agenda 47 are parallel and real – dangerous – and we can all read their intentions, though i would point out that there is this as well: we don’t know what we don’t know, what we can’t easily read or find – or even imagine – about their suffocating plans to take america to the place they call great.
what we do know is that america is not great going backwards. america is not great thwarting freedoms of all. america is not great divisive, a place where peace does not exist. america is not great full of rage. it is extraordinarily repulsive to watch the bigoted, bullying, incoherent, rage-filled ramblings of this maga candidate, yet they are wrapping believers – everyday people – in a bubbles-and-rainbows-reality they tout…a reality that will implode on them – the everyday people – should he be elected.
in september we will walk at the gardens by the lake. because it will likely still be warm – temperature-wise – the red banana tree leaves will still likely be towering over us.
in october we will walk at the gardens by the lake. it may be a bit chillier by then. and, depending on the parks department and scheduling of available staff, the red banana trees may still be there, standing tall.
in november we will walk at the gardens by the lake. all the flowers and banana leaves will be gone. the soil will be turned over and ready for whatever is next – in the spring of 2025.
when the alternate reality is gone and the dust settles, what really remains? is it rich soil or is it just filthy dirt?
we walk in democracy in september, in october and a few days in november. as we vote on november 5 we need to choose what we wish to remain in the garden. what reality truly is. what reality we truly want.
eichelman park is not meant to be the tropics.
the united states of america is not meant to be a fascist autocracy.
we landed at our caribbean island a few days ago. anxious to stretch our legs, we dropped off our luggage and changed practical travel sandals to flipflops. the sun was out and the water was inviting. we were on the side of the island with some rocky shoreline but a beautiful footpath led us along to the sandy beach. we just couldn’t get over the color of the water, the sound of seagulls, the soft air, the bamboo populating the coast.
we haven’t ever been here before, but we are both excited to snorkel and maybe even dive – we are both certified scuba divers so having some time in this gorgeous ocean is appealing.
our airbnb is full of light, open to the outdoors, embracing everything tropical. there are two hammocks strung between trees and tiki torches all along the patio waiting for sundown. and we are lucky. we are here during a time that it is not too humid – there are cool breezes off the ocean, the birds are plentiful, the lizards run wild and free and the salty scent in the air is fresh.
we get to the beach and pull off our flipflops to feel the exquisite white sand on our feet. walking along water’s edge we decide there is nothing like this – it’s dreamy.
and – the fact of the matter is – it IS dream-y.
this is not the caribbean nor is this a tropical ocean. this photograph is taken along the harbor down the street from us on lake michigan. it’s all about the narrative.
if there is nothing else we have learned over the last eight years or so, it is to check the narrative of what you are hearing or seeing – BEFORE you believe it. it is to ponder the validity of the words that people around you are saying, to wonder if there is agenda behind those words, to inquire and research and find the truth.
because people tell tall tales – even those who you would never expect to fabricate, those from whom you would expect better, those whose positions literally suggest honesty, those whose integrity you count on. the guarantee is that you will be surprised.
so, before you think – wow! they are in the caribbean on vacation – realize you must never assume anything these days. for things are not always how they look and it is incumbent upon each of us to make sure we understand what really IS true.
we have a small stack of unopened envelopes on the counter. it’s a stack of holiday cards and we’re saving it for closer to christmas. opening these while sitting together will seem like a visit from these people we care about at a time when visits are scarce and time together is minimal. these cards will help.
because these holidays are messy.
we’ve been succumbing to the hallmark channel. it has been both delightful and a disservice, a bar we cannot touch, with families gathered around roaring fireplaces with cocoa, around kitchen counters icing cookies, around the town square christmas tree singing, around the tree farm choosing the exact right tree to cut down, dancing at the christmas ball. our hearts soar with these picturesque modern-day norman-rockwells and yet…
because the holidays are messy.
in my mind’s eye i can create all kinds of wondrous times – with our children, our extended families, our friends. i envision everyone here at home or at a giant cabin in the mountains with snow gently falling outside, arriving at the door with ecstatic hugs of anticipation. i can hear laughter and records spinning and song and many shared old stories. i catch a whiff of the fireplace and the cocoa, early morning coffee brewing like in all the old folgers commercials, the turkey or ham or lasagna in the oven, snickerdoodles and peanut butter cookies with hersheys kisses and krumkake baking. i can feel the excitement with everyone throwing wrap on the floor, bows and ribbons flying, opening thoughtful gifts. i can see evidence of our angels in the air, my sweet momma and poppo, columbus, my big brother, grandparents, even our babycat. i blink and i’m back. like many of you, i know this wondrous time, though perhaps entirely possible someday, is – again – not reality.
because the holidays are messy.
in this final stretch to christmas i know that expectations are high and disappointment is higher. the simplest moments that our hearts desire are somehow unattainable and complex. it is not an easy time and it is on the heels of a not-easy year for so many, including us.
the holidays are messy.
so we keep the small stack of cards and wait to open them. we sit at the end of the evening in the living room lit by the lights of our tree and the white branches of previous years. we write cards and sticker envelopes and wrap packages and ship. we, like you, try to immerse in both memory-rituals and new traditions, try to make-the-best-of-it. we know that time marches on, too quickly-quickly. in looking back we all know how fast ahead goes. we wish for the holidays we can see – but not quite touch – in our mind’s eye. we know that angst and worries and loneliness and exhaustion and issues and comparisons and striving for perfection and dismaying sadness are not supposed to be a part of the holiday spirit, yet we see tidbits of these shades of blue as we look around. we work to move in grace and trust and hold unconditional love as guiding forces.
we hope for less-messy another year.
i believe the cardinals out back at the pond came to reassure me.
the tiny fluff of clover lives at the edge of the stone step. sweet one-half-inch beauties, they grant wishes to passing chipmunks and chickadees lingering at the birdfeeder. beauty at the edges, innocent, simple, unnoticed mostly.
the big picture often doesn’t validate the tiny edge fluff. it’s too big-picture-ish. lofty goals, high aspirations, gigantic expectations, unreasonable accomplishment demands – all take the focus off the soft sides, the padding between imposing idealism and reality. the shallow depth of field captures the up-close and blurs the rest, giving pause to some of what is overwhelming.
i suppose beauty is meant to be like that. the curl of your baby’s tendril of hair, the new leaf bud on the tree, the wisp of pink cloud in the sun-setting sky, the quiet birdcall at dawn – nothing enormous, just simple and life-giving.
so how is it that we get ourselves mixed up in so much measuring, so much set-up for disappointment. we live our minutes as if they are infinity itself. we compare and contrast and yearn and regret. we are striding, striding. even while the clover waits.
and then, sitting on the step of the deck, pondering for a few minutes, we look down and see this magical sight. the tiny world of the tiny clover beckons our attention. it will not be there forever, and, likely with the drought, will disappear before too long. but in the meanwhile it is there and verdant and growing and it counts.
once again, i am reminded, in a wondrous way, of my own tiny-ness. though i know the mark i make on the world is ephemeral, fleeting, and i sometimes, anyway, get lost in the demands and the challenges and the ups and downs of the accompanying emotional seesaw, i hope that there is something up-close about me that gives pause, that offers kindness, that is love.
my-big-picture is actually very tiny and at the edge of the step of the universe. hopefully it is like clover fluff.
back in the day, my sister drove a dodge charger. it was a pretty sporty car then, the 1974 model, and, as a driver on long island’s expressways, she was up to the task. she is still much a new york driver, conversation while driving in the car punctuated with relevant muscle-car-language. it was always an adventure being in the car with her. i am eleven years younger so i learned road-talk sitting in her passenger seat.
when the commercial came on for the dodge challenger i had to laugh. they have been pretty similar vehicles through the years. and the commercial made me think of my sister. until i saw the little boy driving it like a road-maniac. right smack dab in the middle of all the fancy muscling around, the commercial pauses and the little boy turns and says, “our lawyers just want you to know that this isn’t real.”
duh. it’s a commercial. is anything real?
the disclaimer at the end of pharmaceutical company ads listing possible side effects – though it is announced that it is not an all-inclusive list – is always bracing…especially the “do not use this drug (fill in the blank) if you are allergic to it or the ingredients in it…” seriously? what is real?
in our litigious country it is remarkable that you don’t have to sign a waiver no matter what you do. so many potential lawsuits, so little time. everything everywhere is closer than it appears in the mirror.
i had to text my sister and ask her what year her charger was. i remember clearly how much she loved that car – i remember it as butter yellow with a white vinyl top. when she texted me back i found out that she had purchased that very car because a playpen fit in the trunk. it was after her daughter was born so playpens and toting baby stuff was real for her. muscling on highways not so much.
my first car was my volkswagen. it was a 1971 super beetle and i adored it. my dog came with me everywhere and sat in the well. i toted my little niece all around, windows down and singing songs on our way to the beach or to feed the ducks or to play in the park. it was not a muscle car, it had zilcho storage capacity and it was not featured in cool cream puff commercials then or now. but it was real and it was a steadfast little bug.
pre-pandemic we loved to explore antique shoppes. we would stumble upon so many relics, so many memories, so many we-had-this moments. often, we would find things we still have, which made us laugh aloud that our possessions – the ones not obvious vintage treasures – were considered antiques. the mixing bowls, the salt and pepper shakers, the corningware, the irish coffee mugs. wandering through the aisles of antique shoppes, i have been known to exclaim, “people shouldn’t be able to purchase new glassware or mugs or plates or china! it should be a requirement to purchase from a secondhand store or an antique shoppe!” i am overwhelmed sometimes by the vast amount of wasted products, the vast amount of new choices, the vast amount of value people place in the stuff they have. what is really necessary? what is really real?
as the proud owners of stoneware i bought for 25¢ a piece at a wholesale show, passed-down corningware, a stove/oven circa 1980, a scion xb with 247,000 miles, an old 1998 ford f150 pickup truck and, yes, a 1971 vw bug, we are not the audience for the new dodge challenger commercial we saw.
truth seems a scarcity these days. like various species of rhinos, elephants, penguins, tigers, whales, it seems to be on the endangered list. vulnerable, it is threatened by agenda, by usurping rhetoric, by propaganda, by people hiding behind cloaks of superheroes. it has been battered by self-aggrandizing people, by persons in positions of power, in high places, in low places. dangerous falsehoods and narrative abound, both in the telling of lies and in the non-telling of truth. “we are suffering from truth decay,” brian stelter reports, “we are in a truth emergency.”
it has become pervasive, this rotting apple. from the top down, we do not have fine examples of truth-telling. we watch as the spinning stories spin faster, out-of-control, madness. it has permeated every little corner, this toxicity. even in our own little worlds we see evidence of spinning stories, of truth-evasion, of gaslighting, of madness. it is a contagion of its own merit, this decay, and we must brace, stand steadfastly in reality and facts and protect truth. we must ask for it, require it, demand it. we need push back against the covering-up of what is real, what is truth. we must find the verifiable core, have hard conversations, move in a healthy, unwavering way to verity. we need rail against the extinction of truth.
because of the hard work of dedicated organizations, wildlife may make a recovery. with the dedicated work of each person, each capable of forthright honesty, humankind would benefit from a truth recovery.
“this much is clear: we cannot afford to fail in our mission to save a living planet.” (world wildlife foundation)
reverse threading 