Desert perspective

         I didn't vote at all in the late eighties and throughout the nineties. I was a traveler then and spent a lot of my time away from the United States. It wasn't the difficulty of voting while not having a fixed address that kept me from the polls, and it wasn't lack of intersect in the issues of the day. I just chose to stay an outsider. I even referred to myself as a citizen of the world. American citizenship came after that in priority.
         Diogenes of Sinope claimed world citizenship. It's believed he was the first to coin the term cosmopolitan ( which literally means world citizen) and apply it to himself in the 5th century BCE.  Diogenes has long been a hero of mine, and a teacher. Whether he inspired my claim to cosmopolitan status I don't remember. It may have just been a reluctance to claim New Jersey as my home. It may have been simple arrogance. Maybe I just hoped to remain aloof and untainted by the unseemly spectacle of political mud slinging.  I'm pure no more. 
      This presidential election is a singular moment in our nation's political history. The election of 1860, with the country at the brink of dissolution, may have been a more fateful election, but I doubt we've ever faced an election as ludicrous or tasteless as this one. We can blame that on a just one candidate. Hillary, for all her flaws, has not disgraced herself in this campaign, or elsewhere in her life quite like Donald Trump manages to do on a daily basis. Many of his critics like to point out that Trump gained his fame as a reality t.v. star. That's true, but I don't see how that alone excludes him from high office. I think I could live with the Donald Trump character from the Apprentice as president. The Trump we've seen in this campaign instead has acted more like someone you'd see on the Jerry Springer show. In tonight's  debate I'm waiting for the moment he tears off his shirt and shouts "You want this, Hillary?".
    According to the Washington Post, Americans are feeling considerable stress over this election. They cite a survey from the American Psychological association where 52% of adults admit feeling somewhat to highly stressed by the presidential race. Those reporting the highest levels of stress are newer voters (  Millennials) and older voters. Michelle Obama in a recent speech said that hearing Trumps remarks about women from the leaked Access Hollywood video " had shaken me to my very core, in a way that I could not have predicted".  That sounds like election stress to me.
     If this election is getting to you I have a suggestion. Wait for your ballot to arrive,fill it out the best you can, then drop it off in a mail box on your way out of town for the remainder of the election. It's off season anyway. There's nothing worth staying for if you don't have kids in school. Head for the desert. Get on a mountain bike. Clip on to a belay rope. Pull on a pair of hiking boots. Whatever you do stay away from the television. Stay away from radio. Stay away from social media. There is so much going on outside of the narrow world of politics. There is the Milky Way swirling across the night sky. Planets circle round your head. The moon rises and descends, eclipsing any stars that stray across its path. Daylight is worth hanging around for too, and the Sun doesn't give a damn about Donald Trump either.
     When holy men in ancient times grew weary of the hurly burly they grabbed a staff and a robe and headed straight for the desert. Maybe they'd meet a burning bush, or hear God whisper something meaningful into their ear. Maybe nothing at all would happen. At the very least the desert guaranteed silence. There was the sound of blowing wind in the afternoon , and at night, the distant howl of jackels . Revelations only come in silence.  Silence has a power to restore and feed the soul. 
      Anyhow, don't be caught thinking that this election will bring disaster on our heads. Trump will not win. When Clinton wins she will not single handedly dismantle the last vestiges of our constitutional republican system and replace them with some good ideas she got from studying Kim Il Sung or Saul Alinsky. That's not her inclination. Even if it were ,a president alone does not have that much power. A president Trump would have even less. He has alienated himself from his own party and he's unlikely to find any allies from across the aisle. If worst comes to worst, there's always the desert.

Another racist rant (corrected)

   
   If you're a baby boomer, like myself, Neil Young has been around for so long it's hard to imagine a time when his voice wasn't in your head. At some time I began to take him for granted. When a friend showed up from out of town to see Neil's shows in town park and presented me with a weekend pass it was the first time that growing to a Neil Young concert had occurred to me. I'm so glad I went. Young's music is more than just wallpaper for me. He's been a part of my life.  That's what I learned. If you're looking for a review, OK here goes. It was great!
   One thing about Young's music and life that stands out is that he not only wrote great stuff, he inspired it from others.. When he wrote "You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain" Judy Collins countered with " the Carousel of Life " ,one of her best. When Young crooned " Southern man better keep your head. Don't forget what your good book said" Leonard Skinner sent back "Sweet Home Alabama ", an anthem of Southern pride, and one of the greatest rock songs ever performed. Neil should get royalties.
    On a completely different subject, I wrote a column recently that may have gone too far, even strayed into the forbidden realm of controversy. Just kidding. It was meant to be controversial. Since when did controversy become so controversial?
    I wrote about  the Black Lives Matter movement, which I don't have a very high opinion of. When it comes to the hornets nest that I apparently disturbed, my guess is that I came a little too close to discussing race. Re-read the column, if you dare, you'll see that I don't discuss race or make any remark that could be remotely conscrued as racist. Black Lives Matters is not shy about the discussion of race as long as opposing views are off bounds. There is a word frequently used to shut down discussions that contradict the views of the  racial cognoscenti. The word is "racist". I'm old enough to remember when the word actually meant something. You can look it up in any dictionary. The original meaning is still there. Today's meaning is different, it just means you're wrong I'm right, shut up, oh ,and I think you're appalling!
     Nevertheless, I'm willing to talk about race in these columns. There's no reason it should be a forbidden subject. I just haven't felt inclined to yet. I have nothing to be ashamed of, no hidden animosity, no secret agenda. I have no more reason to feel superior to someone else on racial grounds as on any other.
     What I did discuss was why BLM is wrong about police shootings. I also compared them to mobs of the past who often outdid BLM  in violence and racial hatred, but not necessarily in the harm they brought to their own people and society at large.
      Judging from what I've seen on Facebook where my column sparked a vigorous discussion with many hundreds of comments, it could be that I've struck a chord. Maybe it was the person who made the original post ,suggesting that I apologize for my column and never write another ,that did the striking.  I think a very valid point made by some was that I presented my "facts" without citing any sources. It occurred to some that I'd probably just made them up. For evidence I refer you to professor Roland G. Fryer Jr. of Harvard. Professor Fryer set out to demonstrate police racial bias, and in fact he did, but not in shootings. In matters of rough treatment from cops he found in all ten of the cities that he studied a greater propensity to strong arm black suspects. What surprised him was finding that in police shootings white suspects in similar circumstances to black suspects had a greater chance of being shot, even if not attacking the officer at that moment. This also proved out in all ten cities in the study. In Houston ,for instance, your chances of being shot in a confrontation with police is 20% higher if you are white.  In LA, Orlando, same story.
      Now you see why I didn't include any of this collaborative material in my original column. It's fun putting all this down on paper, but it takes up such a ridiculous amount of space. Now I have so much less room to praise Neil Young a little more, or talk about the beautiful fall we've been having, or wonder why Telluride tax dollars are going to reroute a stream that was already doing a fine job of making its way downhill? None of that should be controversial.

Another racist rant

   
   If you're a baby boomer, like myself, Neil Young has been around for so long it's hard to imagine a time when his voice wasn't in your head. At some time I began to take him for granted. When a friend showed up from out of town to see Neil's shows in town park and presented me with a weekend pass it was the first time that growing to a Neil Young concert had occurred to me. I'm so glad I went. Young's music is more than just wallpaper for me. He's been a part of my life.  That's what I learned. If you're looking for a review, OK here goes. It was great!
   One thing about Young's music and life that stands out is that he not only wrote great stuff, he inspired it from others.. When he wrote "You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain" Judy Collins countered with " the Carousel of Life " ,one of her best. When Young crooned " Southern man better keep your head. Don't forget what your good book said" Leonard Skinner sent back "Southern Man ", an anthem of Southern pride, and one of the greatest rock songs ever performed. Neil should get royalties.
    On a completely different subject, I wrote a column recently that may have gone too far, even strayed into the forbidden realm of controversy. Just kidding. It was meant to be controversial. Since when did controversy become so controversial?
    I wrote about  the Black Lives Matter movement, which I don't have a very high opinion of. When it comes to the hornets nest that I apparently disturbed, my guess is that I came a little too close to discussing race. Re-read the column, if you dare, you'll see that I don't discuss race or make any remark that could be remotely conscrued as racist. Black Lives Matters is not shy about the discussion of race as long as opposing views are off bounds. There is a word frequently used to shut down discussions that contradict the views of the  racial cognoscenti. The word is "racist". I'm old enough to remember when the word actually meant something. You can look it up in any dictionary. The original meaning is still there. Today's meaning is different, it just means you're wrong I'm right, shut up, oh ,and I think you're appalling!
     Nevertheless, I'm willing to talk about race in these columns. There's no reason it should be a forbidden subject. I just haven't felt inclined to yet. I have nothing to be ashamed of, no hidden animosity, no secret agenda. I have no more reason to feel superior to someone else on racial grounds as on any other.
     What I did discuss was why BLM is wrong about police shootings. I also compared them to mobs of the past who often outdid BLM  in violence and racial hatred, but not necessarily in the harm they brought to their own people and society at large.
      Judging from what I've seen on Facebook where my column sparked a vigorous discussion with many hundreds of comments, it could be that I've struck a chord. Maybe it was the person who made the original post ,suggesting that I apologize for my column and never write another ,that did the striking.  I think a very valid point made by some was that I presented my "facts" without citing any sources. It occurred to some that I'd probably just made them up. For evidence I refer you to professor Roland G. Fryer Jr. of Harvard. Professor Fryer set out to demonstrate police racial bias, and in fact he did, but not in shootings. In matters of rough treatment from cops he found in all ten of the cities that he studied a greater propensity to strong arm black suspects. What surprised him was finding that in police shootings white suspects in similar circumstances to black suspects had a greater chance of being shot, even if not attacking the officer at that moment. This also proved out in all ten cities in the study. In Houston ,for instance, your chances of being shot in a confrontation with police is 20% higher if you are white.  In LA, Orlando, same story.
      Now you see why I didn't include any of this collaborative material in my original column. It's fun putting all this down on paper, but it takes up such a ridiculous amount of space. Now I have so much less room to praise Neil Young a little more, or talk about the beautiful fall we've been having, or wonder why Telluride tax dollars are going to reroute a stream that was already doing a fine job of making its way downhill? None of that should be controversial.

Strange fruit

       Once upon a time in some parts of this country, lynching was a popular form of public expression. There were reasons for this rough style of ad hoc justice. The area of the country where it was practiced was occupied by Federal troops during the reconstruction era. Courts were under the control of enemy occupiers and were not seen as promoting community interests. In this atmosphere of distrust, vigilantism became an alternate form of  justice .
     With an enormous portion of their men so recently slaughtered or maimed on the battlefields of the civil war, their economy wrecked, and enduring occupation, Southerners quickly found a scapegoat for their problems. Newly freed slaves bore the brunt of Southern rage and humiliation.  What followed was a hundred years of extrajudicial whippings, beatings, cross burnings, and hangings.
    If you've been watching the rioting in Charlotte or similar demonstrations throughout the country since Ferguson then you may have guessed why mob action is on my mind these days. Instead of the KKK we've got Black Lives Matter. Instead of actually stringing victims up from the nearest tree we have death threats on social media ,and the execution style murders of policemen. Instead of cries of "White Power" we have " No Justice, No Peace". It's doubtful that all those swept up into this movement share the same goals or motivations. They're a pretty diverse group. On the more peaceful side you have people who are nostalgic for the heyday of the civil rights movement and see this as it's logical extension. On the more violent side you have anarchists who feed on anger and hatred and violence, and get their kicks from creating mayhem .But racism is often the underlying unifier behind the protests. I'm talking about the racism of the protesters.  Assuming that Whites are guilty of racism until proven innocent is a racist assumption. It's also unwarranted. Assuming that cops are racist, or that that racism is the cause of police shootings of Blacks, is likewise wrongheaded.
     I'm not suggesting there is some moral equivalence between lynch mobs of the Jim Crow era and those of today. I'm trying to make that point explicit.
      I've presented the facts before that make the claims of the Black Lives Matter movement irrelevant because they are all untrue. In this column I'll summarize this argument in as few words as possible. No, white officers are not more likely to shoot black suspects more often than other races. Yes, black officers are more likely to shoot blacks than white officers are. No, police shootings of blacks is not on the rise. Video of shootings is on the rise . No, making an issue out of this phoney non-issue is not helpful. It isn't saving black lives. It's doing the opposite. Murder rates in America's largest 100 cities are growing , reversing earlier trends dramatically. Most of those murders are perpetrated by young black men, also most of the victims. This is the direct result of the Black Lives Matter movement as police are now less likely to practice  proactive policing in the most troubled neighborhoods. Black Lives Matter is wrong . Each of their claims are false, apart from the one in their name.
     I'm outraged by this entire spectacle. The role played by our politicians and bureaucrats is particularly despicable. Instead of refuting false claims they often validate them. As I've illustrated, debunking BLM is so dang easy . I understand that the counterargument has little chance of being appreciated coming from someone like me. I'm begging President Obama, Hillary Clinton and Loretta Lynch to do the work of debunking the myths of Black Lives Matter. That would have a positive effect. Their words would carry weight with the communities that need to hear it most. I'm left wondering why that won't happen. Most likely it's because the mob's anger is a useful tool in their hands. This is the reason race relations have gone downhill since the election of Barack Obama. Keep the population divided and angry over racial issues and you ensure yourself of their votes and undying loyalty. Power corrupts, they say. Gaining it, keeping it, exercising it ,corrupts absolutely.
     
      Mobs love instant justice. Mobs reject rationality. They're fueled by primal passions and self righteous indignation, and seek redemption through communal violent action, a sacrament of blood and fire.  Mob action is remarkably the same phenomenon wherever and whenever you find it. Every mob in history believed itself the victim of others ill will. They felt oppressed and ready to take action to settle the score in their favor. Amazing, isn't it, that the kind of rough justice once used to keep their greatgrandparents in their place has become the expression of today's mobs?

Hot fudge movie

    What's your favorite food? Mine is the hot fudge sundae. I don't eat one every day. I don't remember the last one. Was it in the nineties? No idea. What I can remember was my first  sundae at Ferrell's in Phoenix in 1973. I remember the many sundaes I had with my family as a kid, and some of the restaurants where we had them. That's because the combination of ice cream, whipped cream and hot fudge are just so darn good it's a sensation that stays with you ( except for that last one apparently).
    I bring this up to make a point. Favorite and best are not always the same thing. No one over the age of fourteen or fifteen is likely to claim that hot fudge sundaes are excellent food. They are not fine cuisine. They're not even healthy.
     I got to see a lot of films during the film festival last week. The best of the bunch was Graduation . The film was set in Romania with a great story to tell, a tremendous cast, and brilliant direction and editing. I loved it, but it was not my favorite of the festival.
     Favorite goes to Maudie. It lacked some of the polish of many of the other films this year. Acting talent didn't extend very far down its cast list. It was the hot fudge sundae among the many gourmet meals on offer. But this sundae was one of the rare ones that is actually good for you, and it was the film I'll remember most.
     Maud Dowley was born in Nova Scotia in 1903. She suffered from juvenile rheumatoid arthritis from an early age. Throughout her sixty seven years it progressively twisted and destroyed her body causing near constant pain, but it did not have the power to destroy her spirit.  Maud loved to paint. She painted the simple rural world of Nova Scotia's Annapolis valley in a simple charming style that would make her famous, becoming Canada's most beloved folk artist. The movie "Maudie" covers her adult years as she leaves the stifling influence of her family to begin a new life with the village's least eligible bachelor, the fish peddler, Everett Lewis. Everett has issues. He was not the easiest fellow to get along with. The community had good reason to avoid him. Maud sees someone else in him, though it takes most of the rest of her life to bring out this slightly better version of Everett.
     That's the story, and I'll admit it's a good one but "Maudie" has more than just a good story going for it. There's a secret weapon. Her name is Sally Hawkins. Sally, who plays Maud ,in my opinion, is the most remarkable actor of her generation. If you saw her in Mike Lee's "Happy go Lucky" when it played at an earlier Telluride Film festival, or the brilliant realization of Jane Austen's "Persuasion" made for BBC television in which she starred, you have some idea what I'm talking about. You don't see her on screen all that often, she carefully chooses her roles,  but when you do , there's a thrill in store watching her hitting performance notes  you scarcely knew existed. To strain my operatic analogy a little further, she is the coloratura among fellow singers who learned everything they know about music listening to pop tunes. She's the Bartoli in comparison to contestants of a reality show talent contest. I guess I'm trying to say she stands out.
      There's a danger in watching movies like Maudie, or reading books about people similarly challenged. It's certainly jarring ,and maybe a little depressing, to realise that people without your advantages have gone so far while you're holding in place.  Overcoming obstacles becomes habit for some. Avoiding them becomes habit for others. I know that seems obvious. So why did I have to dope slap myself while coming out of this movie, as I was reminded of these simple facts for the ninehundredth ever forgettable time?
       Maud's life is  testament to the power of perseverance, also of love. Her love for life itself was evident, also her love of painting, and her love for Everett, undeserving as he was. She really had nothing going for her. A realist would have just crawled into a corner and wait for the sweet release of death. That she made life sweet instead, for herself, for her husband, and for anyone touched by her art, is some kind of miracle. It's the sort of miracle that ought to shake you right down to your most basic assumptions. Can you ask much more of a movie than that?

Politics and paranoia

   I've been thinking back on the Clinton campaign of 1992 , and contrasting it to the one of 2016. Admittedly we're talking about two different Clintons, but it's still a comparison worth making. In my memory that was a far more civil election, kinder and gentler, to borrow a phrase from the era.
    I'm going to leave the Trumpster out of this equation as far as possible. That's not to defend him or his proposals and rhetoric. I intend the opposite. He's just so far beyond the pale of acceptable behaviour that he should be dismissed out of hand. I'd rather consider the campaigning style of Hillary. 
     In 1964 historian Richard Hofstadter wrote an essay for Harper's, later expanded into a book, entitled" the Paranoid Style in American Politics". He was writing about the Goldwater campaign  that year. Goldwater ,according to Hofstadter, drew much of his support from conspiracy theorists on the right who were all too willing to believe the worst about their political opponents.  Hofstadter may have forgotten that this paranoia thing works both ways. Maybe he just ran out of space. I can understand that as a occasional essayist myself. He might have pointed out that the Johnson landslide that year was largely the result of his campaign painting Goldwater as a raving lunatic and a warmonger who couldn't be trusted with America's considerable military might. Did paranoia play a role in that election? Oh yea!
     So going back to 1992, did Bill Clinton accuse the elder George Bush of secretly wanting to drag us into war, or drop atomic weapons on our enemies, or disenfranchise large swathes of our population through voter reform,  eliminate Social Security, or any other of these reliable shibboleths from the Democrat playbook? I don't recall any of that. I remember a very smart campaign manager deciding that those approaches were a little timeworn and frayed, and anyhow would have a hard time sticking to this opponent. Afterall, we already knew George Bush. The campaign was primarily over the economy. It asked in who's hands should it to be entrusted? The people chose Clinton. You may remember he didn't do that bad a job with it either, though it hurts to say so.
      The Clinton of this presidential campaign is a little different, or is it the times that have changed? She can, and does criticize the economic plans and track record of what's his name, and contrast those with her own,  but there's lots of the other stuff too. The sad part is that her opponent gives her so much ammunition. He can't help himself. I mean that. He really is unable to help himself or control himself. In our entire history we may never have seen a candidate for high office like this one. Like a child that's been chewing on lead paint flakes from the windowsills all his life, there's no impulse control in him, no judgement, little reason or self awareness either. Shouldn't she be running on that?
      Instead it's back to the playbook. Republicans are racist, anti-environment, religious bigots, authoritarian, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, just whateverphobic. If you can name a phobia, they've probably got it. It's a wonder they find the courage to get out of bed each morning. In this century, the old chestnuts of the paranoid playbook return from the grave, are dusted off and polished, and low and behold they work as well as ever.
      I'm not against name calling if the name fits. I can't stand it when the only reason for bringing it out is that it works. You score a few points but have poisoned the process. Worse than all that, you've decreased social trust, and confidence. Scapegoating, conspiracy mongering, stereotyping are all back in style and that's too bad.
     Imagine politics minus paranoia. It's easy if you try. How about honest policy discussions? How about giving the other side credit wherever credit is due? How about not demonizing them, or always ascribing to them the lowest motivations when other options are available? It goes without saying that this plea is meant for everyone. My side is hardly blameless. I've been an avid listener to political talk radio for decades. I can hardly listen anymore because I can't stand the  unfair accusations and stereotyping that are so commonplace lately. My paranoia tolerance is failing me. These days I limit my listening to NPR, and the few radio shows that still respect fair play, and tolerance, John Batchelor for instance, and Armstrong and Getty.
      I'm imagining politics with respect and tolerance right now. I pick up the newspaper and strangely ,it's not there.
      Fly high GB.

Telluride celebrates Telluride

   It's true that Telluriders almost always believe that the ideal Telluride would look an awful lot like the town they saw when they first came here. For me, that magic year would be 1988. The town seemed much more free and easy back then, layed back but ready to party or play like mad at the drop of a hackysack.. Hippies danced in the park with abandon and life was full of enchantment and wonder. In other words ,I was much younger then, and whatever I was learning and experiencing at the time was easily projected in my mind out to the world surrounding me. It would not just be difficult to recreate my original Telluride, it would be impossible. You could tear down every building built since then and restore what's left to there exact 1988 glory and purpose, but there's no getting me ,or anyone else, back into our lovely well chiseled 1988 bodies and faces, let alone back into our eighties frame of mind. What's past is past, the rest is nostalgia.
   This reminds me of the Telluride Art and Architecture weekend.  I hope you made it. Maybe you'll consider coming out to a future A &A . To some extent, all the festivals on our busy calendar highlight the uniqueness and beauty of this valley and the little town that adorns it, but this one in particular celebrates Telluride for all it is and once was. To Kate Jones ,who envisioned this magic festival and with her dedicated staff, Britt Markey, and Molly Perrault ,make it happen, and to all the many talented participants, my profound gratitude.
     I could go one of two ways at this point in the column. I could use the Art and Architecture weekend to segue my thoughts on the spate of construction and destruction going on around town this summer. The problem with that train of thought is that I don't know where it's going. I suppose I could always just start in with it and see where it takes me. That could be fun. The problem is there are more serious thoughts on my mind. There are more serious issues out there . Yes ,there are worse things happening  than the noise and inconvenience caused by the construction crew down the street. There are worse things happening even then the empty lot next door that's being turned into yet another Telluride maximum square footage, three story box. In short ,there's the news from Baton Rouge, from Nice, and from Cleveland.
    As human beings we are uncomfortable with taking full blame for our actions ,or lack of action, in my case . I've never met a three year old, however adorable, that wouldn't do just about anything to avoid accountability when something gets broken ,lost, or spoiled, and there's no doubt who the culprit may be. No honey, I don't think the dog did it this time. We grow up. We grow in lots of ways, but this infantile trait tends to stay with us more tenaciously than most. We just get better at masking our need to avoid the pain that comes from blame. We can even fool ourselves, and we do.
      Whole textbooks and treatise have been written about our avoidance strategies. We transfer the blame. We project it on others. We wallow in victimhood. The greater our failings, or perceived failings, the greater our shame and quilt and the greater our urgency to pass it on. We identify a likely scapegoat, or obsess on the power and evil intentions of the perceived oppressor. The worse our enemies, the better we come off. Are you responsible for your rotten life? "Hell no" is more and more the answer as we discover that the system is surely rigged against people like me. It can't be me, it's got to be  "them".
       This sounds to me like Trumpism. It sounds a little like what all the other snake oil salesmen out there are selling too. How do you spot a successful politician? They're the ones who relieve their constituents of any necessity to find fault with themselves and move it adroitly to someone else .Wall street bankers caused the great recession. Mexicans took our jobs. Infidels corrupt our youth with their cigarettes, alcohol, short skirts, internet pornography and Coca-Cola. The cops are racist. The prison system exists to keep the black man down and enrich others. It's all claptrap! It's all cleverly designed to entrap willing minds. We'd rather believe anything but the truth. We'd rather point fingers than admit that we are all free to act for ourselves. Tell the public that they make their own beds and see how many votes you get. 
      So there you go, Cleveland, Baton Rouge, and Nice, all tied up in one pretty little bow.

Trumps creative destruction

      As a Republican I'm embarrassed and a little worried by the Trump candidacy. As an American I'm worried over the Clinton candidacy. Vote for Hillary, and ill be relieved of my embarrassment. Of course, there's still that worry factor.
      My friends on the left are not enamored with Mrs. Clinton either. I suppose, when it comes right down to it most will vote for her rather than risk four years (or more) of Donald Trump, whatever their feelings about her personally. They rightly see her as representing the unholy alliance between big business and big money, and political power brokers. Crony-Capitalism has been around longer than we've had a name for it. Madison sought to keep it in check by distributing power widely throughout government, and encouraging competition between power interests. Jefferson imagined a nation of small farmers happily handing over decision making power to larger farmers ,who would choose from amongst themselves the wisest and most virtuous to lead and govern forever more. It turns out that nothing they could do or say or pass through Congress could prevent us from going our way. Our way is to throw money at the powerful, and power to those who can spend it freely.
     Two hundred and thirty or so years later we still honor Madison's Constitution ,study it, swear our allegiance to it on occasion, but are always ready to put it aside whenever it gets in the way. 
      During the Nixon administration Arthur Schlesinger Jr. referred to the " imperial presidency" . He was concerned over Nixon's overreach, and the implications of the trend if it would continue through future administrations. He was right, of , but it's interesting that it took the presidency of this Republican, long detested by the left ,to awaken in this old New Dealer a healthy fear of supraconstitutional authority run amuck. As far as overreach goes, Nixon was not particularly unique among modern presidents. As far as Republicans go he was not particularly conservative. Nixon brought us the EPA, affirmative action, and much else that conservatives often rant about. It's worth noting that presidents are rarely the game changers we hope them to be. They must be pragmatists. They have to deal with Congress ,which controls the budget. Some trends are bigger than the office.
       This is what keeps me up at night. All the trends are against us. The arc of history is taking us in the exact wrong direction. We could benefit greatly from smarter ,smaller government but there is no indication that we are headed that way anytime soon. Our national dept is about to reach twenty trillion unaffordable dollars . The Federal reserve is unable to increase interest rates yet again because economic growth refuses to budge from its virtual nonexistence. Millions of Americans are unemployed. Millions more are underemployed. The number of food stamp enrollees has doubled since the Great recession. Meanwhile, Congress continues to hand off its law making responsibility to the agencies it has created and funds, the same agencies that add annually millions of pages of new regulations to justify their own existence while effectively stifling business growth and limiting competition.
        What will Hillary Clinton do about these trends? What would Donald Trump do? Neither appear willing to turn back power to the States, or to Congress, or dismantling the undemocratic regulatory state. Trump sees no limit to presidential power, at least not if he's the guy running things. In a strange way that is my only small ray of hope in this election. If America elects Trump it's true I will feel embarrassed, but my consolation is that he will be  true to his own personality and reach too far ,step on too many toes, fall head first into a big steaming pile of his own hubris, and promptly find himself turned out of office. I realize all that drama could get messy furthering my already considerable embarrassment, but consider the upside. At long last Republicans and Democrats will come togeather, first to get rid of the Donald, then to reach lasting reforms to prevent future presidents from exercising more authority than the Republic can handle. This would set back an eighty odd year trajectory of centralizing and consolidating executive power.
        Who knows what could come next? With reform all the rage in Washington we may even do something about that national debt. We may get serious about downsizing government, reducing wasteful regulations, eliminating wasteful programs, and allowing for real economic growth again. A really awful Trump presidency may be providentialy short . It may lead to the reversal of destructive trends. A really awful Hillary presidency will look a lot like the last eighty years and will only get us in all the deeper. So I'm hoping for Trump to win. I'm hoping he's just as bad as he looks. What is it they call this in economic theory, creative destruction? That's where I see hope. Kind of sad, isn't it?

Fractured fairytales

    Someone told me that this presidential election is God's judgment on us. The speaker wasn't even waiting for the result to be announced in November. God, they figure, is ticked off at us, and the fact we have two such flawed candidates is already all the  proof you need.
    Maybe God isn't angry at all. Maybe this is another example of the sense of humor He is sometimes credited with . I like the idea of a capricious God, like the ones in Greek mythology. It's possible he likes throwing a spanner into the works now and then just to watch us jump, something like the picture we get of Him in the Book of Job. It could be worse than this choice between Hillary and Trump, we could find ourselves covered in painful boils, like Job.
     It's been amusing to watch the  political parties that have dominated  public life over the last century and a half  tearing themselves apart over this election season. It's been amusing except when its been too painful to watch, which is about half the time. Half laugh fest, and half tearful agony, that's about the right proportion. A normal election would come with less tears, but less laughs too.
      This election didn't come out of the blue. If God is intervening then he began constructing the setup for this elaborate prank long ago. It comes  out of a backdrop of the extreme polarization that has been the dominant feature of American politics  for the last fifty years. In "the Fractured Republic" by Yuval Levin, which was published this year, this path to political tribalism over the last half century is examined and explained.                                              Yuval's premise is that Democrats and Republicans are alike in their sense of  nostalgia for the middle years of the twentieth century but mostly for much different reasons. For liberals, that was a time when government really worked, people were more accepting of its many intrusions into their lives, into business too. Business, labor, and government worked togeather to provide unprecedented economic growth that reached every tier of society, the rewards falling equally among them. For conservatives, the post war years represent an expanding economy, but also a time of social stability, an era of broadly shared values, hard work, education, thrift, and family. Conservatives are often equally nostalgic for the eighties, the Reagan years. It's considered a time of reassessment, of tax cutting and regulatory reform that and unleashing an economy that had too long been restrained by both. He also brought optimism and purpose to a nation shaken by recent social upheaval, civil strife, high inflation and stagnant wages. 
     The sad news Levin has for conservatives is that those "city on a hill" Reagan years won't be coming back anytime soon.  That moment has passed. Clearing up today's problems will require twenty-first century solutions. Liberals need to get with the program as well. The fifties and sixties are even less likely to return , and anyhow nostalgia for the Buddy Holly years is seriously misplaced . The economy was on fire at that time, and wages saw real growth, but a recent world war had devastated the other major economies. America found itself producing half the world's manufactured goods. There was room to grow and prosper because we were what was left when the fighting was over. It's popular to write that during these peak years of union power, wages, relative to inflation, were also at there peak, and the middle class reached a sort of nadir. From that day till this ,middle class Americans would see their purchasing power steadily decrease. That's not even close to being true. The middle-class may have shrunk, but most of the former middle class have moved upward rather than descending the other direction. The purchasing power of today's American is far in advance of our parents and grandparents, something like comparing an old fashioned rotary phone to the miraculous computers we talk into, and do a hundred other things with today.
      Levin contends that a romanticized and fallacies picture of the past cripples both sides of the political divide , preventing them from carefully accessing current challenges and reaching solutions to meet them. It also hampers the parties from appreciating the strengths of the other, and cooperating despite their differences.
    Most of all Levin regrets that over the course of the last century the United States has inexorably moved power toward the center, toward federal bureaucrats, toward the Whitehouse (did I mention that Levin is libertarian?).  He calls instead for a recommitment to subsidiarity, which is placing power ever closer to the people. Top down solutions that may have worked well for earlier generations are clearly not working today. Or we could join old Job and learn to live with boils.

Elaine

  She was an insider, I am an outsider. She was a liberal who identified herself as a socialist. I read National Review and think Ronald Reagan was the best president of my lifetime. She was a San Miguel county commissioner and a former Telluride mayor, I am a woodsy. Obviously, Elaine Fischer and I were not two peas in a pod. Despite our many differences we were friends. When she passed away on Memorial day I felt the loss. Judging from the turnout and emotions a saw and experienced at her memorial a few days ago, so did many of you.
  We were brought togeather nine years ago when I first rented studio space for painting at the Stronghouse on South Fir . She had a studio there for almost as long as Stronghouse had been rented by Telluride Arts to give artists a place to create. I well remember my first show there. The opening night art walk was well attended but sales were slow in coming.  Elaine had noticed a couple from Arizona who were attracted to a particular painting of mine. As I recall it was a twilight scene of a moon rise over Ajax with Telluride tucked in its valley beginning to show it's lights. More memorable than that painting was the sight of Elaine with her arm around the woman, literally dragging the couple back into the gallery after they'd left, convincing them they they needed to buy this painting, as they of course did. Salesmanship and artistic talent are not always present in the same person. Many an artist can be glad that both traits existed in her especially when that moxie was channeled in your behalf.
     Her approach to painting was a lot like her overall approach to life. In the words of Marissa Mattys at that recent memorial, she had " tenacity and focus" to an unusual degree. I often watched her paint . Her commitment was total. Her concentration was unflinching.
       A show she hung one year was made up entirely of self portraits. These were not flattering self portraits. She was exploring her subject, revealing it untainted with sentimentality or romanticism. She called the show "Vanity". The title was not fitting in my estimation. I suppose she meant it to be ironic.
      Last year's show reflected her struggle with cancer. From the cannon of great western art she chose the paintings of several woman and skilfully reproduced them then introduced an unsettling intrusion in the form of the crude ugly charactertures of the modernist painter Guston. The female figures of Delacroix, Franz Hals, Manet, and Sergeant represented life as we'd choose it. The Guston element said that nature perhaps has something else in mind.
    She didn't drive. That's different, even around here. Maybe that's a reason she stayed in Telluride after Marks ( her husband) death. This is one of the few places where cars are largely unnecessary. Maybe she stayed because this is a place where an individual can make a big difference if only they have the will. It's not surprising then that she was drawn to politics. 
   Politics is not the easiest profession. You have to have the ability to sell your ideas. You also have to be able to sell yourself. That's never easy, especially if you have the slightest ego or self-regard, something  I'm told politicians have in good supply. As far as I know she never lost an election. I do remember her worrying about losing an election even when it seemed to me that she had it in the bag. She did win pretty overwhelmingly. I don't think Elaine's strengths as a commissioner, or a mayor, or a councilmen were lost on her constituents, even to those of us of another party. She was relentless in the best sense of the term.
    When it came to her health that tenacity and focus again came into play. After her diagnosis of cancer she decided that she would do whatever it took to fight it. She would not leave it to the Doctors alone to decide what was best for her and carry it out. She informed herself on the best course of action and made damn sure they carried it out. She stopped eating and drinking most of the foods that brought her the greatest pleasure to concentrate on the foods that would help her body overcame the cancer that sought to destroy her. She wasn't about to take cancer lying down. She wouldn't go down without a fight. That was Elaine from the day I met her, and from what I hear, right up to the end. That was the Elaine we knew. That was the Elaine who touched so many of our lives  while she lived among us, some of us ,without our even knowing it. That was the Elaine who left a great big hole in our lives on Memorial day. There is no one quite like her to fill it up again.

More wealth, less satisfaction

    
     I once belonged to a millenialist religion. The second coming ,we believed ,was just around the corner and soon Christ Himself would rule on Earth. This wasn't some whacky fringe group either. We weren't looking for spaceships or comets to carry us to the promised land ,or living in an isolated desert compound purifying ourselves in preparation for the coming rapture. There was a widespread belief that the world was rotten and getting rottener. That idea is a common thread in all millennialist cults , religious and secular.  If life wasn't getting worse, if the world wasn't descending into ever greater depravity  and suffering, then why pin your hopes on its sudden culmination and speedy redemption? I had a few problems with the doctrines of that church , this was one of them. For whatever reason, I tended to think of the world as a pretty wonderful place and improving all the time. It turns out that my uninformed ,overly positive impression was right all along. I may have been naive but I wasn't deceived. 
    The Progress Paradox by Gregg Easterbrook adds further confirmation to my sunny outlook. It's his contention that life in the United States has improved tremendously over the last sixty years. It's been on the same trajectory since colonial times, with occasional hiccups here and there, but always trending upwards. The air is cleaner, rivers and streams are less polluted. The rich have become richer, but then so have every other class. Those in the middle, for instance, have experienced a doubling in income over the last sixty years in inflation adjusted dollars. Not only that but the goods and services available to them far surpass what the nineteen sixties had to offer in quality, convenience, and life enhancement. The author is amazed that the good news isn't getting out there, and so am I. It's not in the interest of politicians or the news media to broadcast it. Power for the political class depends on our believing otherwise, and that's the message the mainstream media is pleased to pass on and amplify. False narratives about the decline of the middle class are inescapable. It's not surprising that many of us believe it.
       What about income inequality? Haven't the rich seen their incomes and buying power increase far faster than the middle class? Easterbrook points out that there are two significant factors at play skewing median household income statistics that need to be taken into account. Immigration accounts for most of the income growth disparity. The United States, from around 1980 until today, has taken in over a million immigrants annually. For most of those years that's been about equal to the rest of the world's nations combined. Most of those immigrants are poor. For many of them the climb out of poverty is a slow process while coping with a strange culture and a difficult language to master. Add in the millions of immigrants who have crossed the border illegally , many of whome are largely uneducated, and you begin to see the situation more clearly.                                                     While immigration is a positive phenomenon, and one of America's greatest sources of strength, in the short term it detracts from the median wealth statistical profile. According to Easterbrook and the studies he sites ,the gap between haves and have-nots is actually shrinking, not growing, once you factor out the non-native born. Another factor is the shrinking size of the American family. While the typical household today contains about 2.6 people, twenty-five years ago the average was 4. Household income may have grown only slightly over that period ( factoring in the drag on that statistic due to high numbers of new immigrants), but remember that wealth is spread out over far fewer people per household today. Taking smaller households into account the rise in wealth per person since 1990 on average is fifty percent. 
       My former religion didn't actually teach that shrinking paychecks were a sign of the coming apocalypse. They looked for societal collapse in other forms. There was even some finger pointing at increasing prosperity as a cause of increasing sin. Here they were on to something. Prosperity is at least a mixed blessing. Even as we have gained in wealth and in other measures of a satisfying and comfortable life we've been losing ground on the happiness index. Suicides are up, drug use and alcohol addiction are rampant, more and more of us suffer bouts of depression. That is the "paradox" that appears in the title of Easterbrook's book. It explores the subject and offers solutions. 
        The question comes up, would you rather be rich or do you prefer to be happy? My answer is always, yes.
        
        

None but the most honest and wise

      No candidate for President has ever been as thoroughly vetted  as Hillary Clinton. Although her enemies have made many false claims against her and she has been the target of numerous investigations from her earliest days in the Whitehouse (as first lady) till now ,she has never been convicted or indicted for anything illegal. This is what you hear from the Clinton campaign when the question of Hillary's numerous scandals comes up. It's mostly true too, well ,apart from that false claims business. Not all the claims against her have proven false. Many have been proven true, some in the strictest " legal" sense of the term, some only true as far as one can reasonably interpret events given the facts at hand. It reminds me of a great line from one of the Adam's Family movies. Gomez  greets his brother ," Fester, you old lady killer". "Yes" a beaming Fester replies ," but never convicted".
     After so many investigations , if the best you can come up with is" but never convicted" you're not making a particularly strong endorsement. That's especially true when these probes and investigations give us a picture of someone who will stop at nothing to get her way. I admire people who are relentless, but relentnessness has a flip side too. There's relentnessness on the wrong path, and there's relentnessness driving you to the wrong means. You can have all the right goals and relentlessly still destroy everything in your path. Having a sense of right and wrong,  a moral sense, makes all the difference. Without scruples you're a danger to everyone around you, especially anyone that gets in the way. Determination alone is neither a virtue nor a vice. There's many a future suicide bomber out there who is wonderfully determined. Determination becomes a virtue only when it's tied to virtuous acts.                                                                                                                                               I refer you to Hillary's first Washington scandal, travelgate. Take a look at what she put Billy Dale through. He was fired from his job and given just minutes to clear his desk and leave the Whitehouse. He was repeatedly and exhaustively investigated by the IRS and FBI. He was brought to court on trumped up charges, defending his innocence at great expense.  His only offensive was to hold a position that Hillary wished to reward to a friend. The charges that came against him were a smokescreen to justify his firing. The first lady instigated the initial firing of Dale and his staff and the cover-up, then lied to a special prosecutor about her role. But she was never convicted. She does have the Clinton knack for getting away with anything, everything, outside the unlikely event of someone having preserved the semen stained blue dress.
        I swear I didn't start today's column with intentions of writing about Hillary Clinton. I thought I'd take a few more whacks at the Donald, maybe make the case for why we can't elect this world class buffoon. Why bother? Everyone should be able to make that case on their own by now, unless they're supporters. That bunch are unreachable. Their minds are made up. As Trump himself has said, he can shoot someone in the middle of 5th avenue, and they'd still vote for him. I have no reason to doubt that.
      In 1801, second president, John Adams moved into the Whitehouse. He was the first president to live there. On his first night in that large, lonely,and as yet unfinished presidential palace, he wrote to his wife, Abigail, who was caring after their children in Quincy Massachusetts. At the close of his letter he made a now famous prayer ,or blessing on the new digs. " Before I end my letter I pray that heaven bestow the best of blessings upon this house, and all that hereafter inhabit it. May none but honest and wise men rule under this roof." he wrote. It's a wonderful sentiment. My only quibble is with the "rule" part. Presidents don't rule, they don't reign, they preside. It's hard to disagree with the rest. Those we elect to the highest office ought to be honorable, just, fair-minded, not exclusively self serving, honest, and reasonable. They ought to reflect the best our society has to offer. 
      Voting for someone just because we like their style, or what they say, or because of their party affiliation, isn't enough. We have a duty to look beyond their positions and question the carefully cultivated image they try to project. We have a duty to judge their character. 
      In the upcoming presidential election that leaves us with exactly two choices. There's none of the above, and anyone else please.

The worst form of government

Near bottom of paragraph 3 I misspelled specter. Did you get new head shot?
   DB

-------- Original Message --------
Subject: The worst form of government
From: David Brankley <kleybran@gmail.com>
Sent: Saturday, April 23, 2016, 6:12 PM
To: editor <editor@telluridedailyplanet.com>
CC:


      Everything about Donald Trump's candidacy has been surprising. Maybe it's just me. I am shocked that so many in my party ,or drawn to my party at least temporarily by this singular candidate from who knows what political netherworld, would find Trump an acceptable choice for president. Why aren't they seeing what I see? It's a good question. I find myself asking it at least once a day, but then I do think about politics way too much. I have this funny idea that understanding politics, especially the how and why of people coming to their political views tells us something significant about humanity, maybe even more than what shows we watch. Some say the two are related.
      If you're not a Republican you're probably thinking, "Of course he's popular. He speaks to people's fears and appeals to all their bassist instincts. That's exactly what your party has been about since Goldwater and Nixon." I don't think that's a fair assessment, but given Trumps success among a large portion of traditional GOP supporters there's undoubtedly some truth in it.
       In this election cycle you are either very cynical or you're not paying attention. My cynicism has been fed recently by coming across the very scholarly " Democracy for Realists" a book by social scientists Christopher Achen and Larry Bartels. They show that study after study highlights the conclusion that very little of our political thinking results from actual thought. Our opinions grow out of our affiliations rather than lead us to them. Our political opinions are largely an accident of circumstance. We use our rational minds mostly to justify these views, not so much for rearranging them, less still for originating them or changing our minds. Even worse than this finding is that the votes that really count in most national elections come from those who haven't even thought things through enough to have a cogent political opinion one way or the other. This group is unburdened by ideological considerations but surprisingly open to considerations as arbitrary and beside the point as ,for instance, the weather, or the color tie last seen on the candidate under consideration. God help us! These are the people who's spector keeps me up at night. Not only do they vote, often elections turn on their irrational impulses and proclivities .
        When it comes right down to it the state of the weather is just as good a reason for voting for or against a candidate or party as the state of the economy. Consider that there are a multitude of factors to hamper,crash, or promote an economy. There are so many, and the process is so complex ,that otherwise reasonable economists can't come to any sort of consensus. Not even Nobel prize winning economists. Like most of the rest of us they come down on ideological lines on economic questions. Little wonder that the rest of us, who haven't devoted a lifetime to studying economics, reach for any trope that's comes handy to base or justify an opinion. Nothing beats a simplistic answer, especially when it reinforces what we already believe and is accepted by those around us. Unfortunately, simplistic answers never work in economics. Maybe that's why it's called the dismal science.
         Did the Clinton tax hike of 1993 stimulate the economic growth that followed, and help lower the deficit? Well actually the economic boom of that period was largely due to the digital revolution that was making economies all around the world more productive and efficient. The reduction in the deficit ( but not the debt) was due to the stimulation of that tech boom combined with budget slashing measures taken by a largely Republican reformist minded Congress. Of course, that tax hike didn't hurt the economy as many of us feared, and it did help considerably to lower the deficit. How you view those events depends almost entirely on what side of the political fence you sit on.
       We like giving credit to our side whenever we can, and accuse the other side of only hurting the causes we care most about. Both sides, right and left, take this to extremes. So you have two opposing sides, alike in blind loyalty to the faith, determined to not give an inch. In the middle you have those who have somehow arrived at their views without the encumbrance of thought. From such strange preferences and enmitys you get modern politics, Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders, Donald Trump, and Ted Cruz. As Churchill said " Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those others that have been tried from time to time."

Rounding for home

   There comes a time in every journey when you realize it's nearly over. Despite all appearances this isn't it. Today on the rolling steppe of the Eastern Navajo reservation in New Mexico I came over a rise and was surprised by the sudden aberration of the San Juans hovering over the Northern horizon like a brilliant cloud. Because of the lack of landmarks out here either foreground or middle- ground ,snow covered peaks ,even while still one hundred miles away or more, make a distinct impression. The impression is underlined by the realization that my home is up there. Up there is the end of this winter's cycling tour of the Western States.
     If you were to trace this ride on a map it could be confusing. Rather than straight lines and definite objectives there would be curves, loops, ellipticals and diversions. The only discernable theme would be a route that ties together most of the best desert riding the American west has to offer joined to much of the best coastal riding along the Pacific.
     Tomorrow morning I'll be in be in Farmington, noon at the latest. Once there a several day famine from WiFi will be over. I will pour over Facebook and maybe post some photos, check my email, and post this column. The desert doesn't offer a lot in the way of WiFi coverage , or even cell phone coverage. What it offers is a whole lot worth posting about. There are spectacular sunsets, and starry nights, coyote choruses, firey meteors, and overwhelming silence, nature's extravagance amid severe austerity. There are pronghorns, and javalina, ravens, and horned larks , lizards, tortoise, and roadrunners. Roadrunners are throwbacks to the age of dinosaurs. They rarely fly. They use their long legs for chasing lizards across the sand. Their motions are dinosaur-like and so is their general appearance. Unless you're a lizard that appearance is not really intimidating so most people don't make a big deal out of watching roadrunners . Replace those feathers with scales or flesh and the sight of them transports you back a hundred million years in time, an era so fitting to this scenery. Desert travel is time travel. This planet spent a tremendous amount of time doing nicely without us. It's revelatory to keep in touch with that reality. We're not that big a deal and we only just arrived. Here is where we do that.
     I've managed to gain a few extra pounds lately, not in fat or muscle, in dust. The winds have been raging in Northern New Mexico this spring, as they do every spring. What's to stop them? That's how so much New Mexico soil, and Northern Arizona dust end up on our snow most springs. Maybe their loss is our gain but I'm not so sure. I like my snow white. I like me white too, or at least tanned. Instead I've become the color of the desert that surrounds me. So are my clothes. So is my gear. We are all color coordinated at last. All the bottle showers in the world won't remove it. I can feel fresh for an hour maybe, but the dust returns. I'm sort of a magnet for dust I suppose. A real bath would be nice, or a long hot shower. Some of the state parks in Utah have showers. That's all the more reason for heading back to Utah.
   In all these years on a bike saddle I've never been blown over by wind. This spring, about three days ago, in Northern New Mexico I was able to cross that one off my list. I was on Old 66 closing in on Grants. Most of the day I'd enjoyed soul satisfying tailwind but I was making one of those curves I was talking about and now I had it against me. Against me is exactly the way to say it. This wind had it in for me. Suddenly a whirlwind grew around me. I took a glancing left then a powerful right hook that layed me out on the road before I knew what was happening. That may have been a blessing. If I tried to prevent injury I would probably caused it instead.  I was alright, just shaken and sore for a few days.
   I'm only rounding for home at this point. I'm not really headed there. It's too early in the season still. Spring arrives at different times in different places. At 9000 feet it can't be expected to arrive until some time in early May. That's when you can expect me to make the climb up the San Juans and intoTelluride. In the meantime there's more riding ahead, more curvy confusing paths to follow, ellipticals, loop-t-loops, and parabolas. More wind, more dust are in store, maybe another delightful fall, but so are moments of unusual beauty and transcendent peace. It all comes in one package.

Free to choose

   In the 18th century when British explorer Capt. James Cook discovered a spectacular chain of islands in the middle of the Pacific and named them after expedition sponsor the Earl of Sandwich, he had every reason to believe that he had just stumbled upon paradise on Earth. Sandwiche's name would live on for his culinary innovation but those islands are now called Hawaii. It was a place utterly unlike the kingdom Cook had sailed from. Although it was then the richest ,most advanced and powerful empire in the world ,it's capitol contained enormous unhealthy slums, it's countryside had numerous poor and landless. In that age of enormous economic upheaval many of its people were worse off than their serf ancestors.
    Hawaiians, on the other hand wanted for nothing. Nature provided a rich diet in fruit and seafood. Where nature left off Hawaiians supplemented its offerings with the tarro and pigs they had brought with them centuries earlier from Polynesia. Their surroundings were beautiful. The climate was ideal. 
    After initial contact Cook and the scientists on board began to reassess their first impressions .All was not well in paradise. Hawaiians were pitted in conflict with each other. The wars between and within royal households were bloody and protracted, almost genocidal. Their rulers were absolute, and rarely benign. The penalty for allowing your shadow to fall on anyone of royal blood was death. The Hawaiian word taboo applied to a vast code of conduct. The penalties for even accidental slips in decorum could entail execution or banishment. Many, even most of the strictures of taboo appear arbitrary and ridiculous to us.. In Hawaii before Cook's  discovery ,the code of taboo meant everything, and no man or woman dared disobey.
   I've often wondered how and why Hawaiians got it so wrong. They had such a good thing going for them. There was passion fruit and mahi mahi, rich volcanic soil, lush vegetation, and beautiful wahinees, hula and pig roasts on the beach. Why not concentrate on just enjoying what life had to offer? Why mess things up with spiteful warfare and so many meaningless ,wasteful, and harmful rules? With all those natural advantages why discard the opportunity to be the happiest ,freest people on Earth?  I'm not sure I want an answer to those questions. I'm afraid it may be that freedom is not entirely compatible with human nature .Freedom is a burden few of us wish to bare. Hawaii is not an outlier or an anomaly, it's just an extreme example of the problem with human nature.
     In a library a few days ago I'd picked up an article to read about a nine year old super athlete.  Milla Bizzotto had taken up exercise to increase strength when bullies at school were making life difficult. She loved working out .Recently she won top place in her age group in a national test of strength in the form of a grueling obstacle course based on Navy Seals training.  She had this to say," I don't want to play video games. I don't want to Hoverboard. I don't want to do things to make life easier. I want to be comfortable being uncomfortable." . She's my hero. At nine she's already wiser than 99 point something of all the adults I've ever met. Putting the article down I almost shouted her words to the boys playing animated games on the library computers nearby. I managed to restrain the impulse. All the boys looked to me to prefer playing computer games to anything requiring actual physical effort. All were overweight. One was obese. 
   Freedom begins with the liberty to act for ourselves, but once that is possible the extent of our actual freedom depends on what we do with that liberty. Mostly it's squandered. Making bad choices and acting on them, or failing to act deepens our loss of a sense of accountability .Choosing not to grow is choosing to loose ground to our own worst instincts .When we face the results of our own poor decisions, human nature has us looking for external causes to our problems rather than facing our own deficiencies head on. There will always be others to channel our  disfatifications to feed their insatiable need for power. Take a look at the candidates in this election season.
     On a positive note I try to remember that the loss of freedom is not inevitable. When all around you are heading down the wrong path you are free to step aside and set your our own agenda. There's nothing stopping you . Choose freedom, accept accountability over comfort even when it runs counter to popular opinion, respectability, or convenience. It matters.

Special Agent
     Laundry day in Hawthorne Nevada. I didn't get much wrong apart from loading my wash plus soap into the dryer instead of the washer before inserting my quarters and turning on the machine, then waiting thirty minutes for it to thoroughly dry my already dry, but still unwashed clothes. I was just pulling them out when another customer walked in to whome I exclaimed, " Wow, this washer actually dries your clothes too." He noticed my mistake about half a moment before it finally dawned on me. He gave me a look that said, how stupid can you get? Before he could press that point home the camp manager ( this was at the Good Sam campground where I'd stopped to buy a shower and inspired by my new found cleanliness was following that up with some laundry) stopped in to say hello to the man who had just arrived. He asked him if he had caucused, they knew each other, and the Nevada caucuses of the 2016 presidential race had just occurred. Yes , he answered, and he'd "voted for the idiot". There was no question who he was referring to. He meant Trump. He also seemed very proud to have promoted the candidate that he considered an idiot. Trump had won the Nevada caucus. He was winning most of them. The other candidates were helpless to stop him, and unable to explain or understand his broad appeal inside, much less outside the Republican party.
    Apart from the strangers odd way of characterizing his choice for president, and a genius for discriminating between washers and dryers far exceedingly my own, there was nothing about him that struck you as impressive. He looked just like any other old coot living out in the desert. Turns out ,as we talked, and he told me about his life he was much more impressive in life story than appearance. But what do we expect of people who have lived life much larger than the rest of us? Should they resemble the people who play them in Hollywood? My experience is, they seldom do. They tend to look like the rest of us schlubs.
      We got as far back as 1958 in his story. He told me that that was when he was in the military, in Indochina, and he was recruited by the CIA, a career that lasted almost twenty years. He'd killed for his country, and been shot at, he said. It would have been a suspicious story coming from anyone else but I was warming up to him, and still find it all believable. Then came marriage to a beautiful casino floor manager in Las Vegas. After her untimely death he took to drinking and misspent the money she had left him. Much of it went to buying brothels in central Nevada. He had owned three, including the famous Bunny Ranch. It was there he'd had the misfortune of having partners who were skimming off the profits for themselves. This lead to a fight. That led to two bullet holes in his belly which he was happy to show me. The other guy didn't walk away. You don't get into a gun battle with ex-CIA may be the moral of that story.
      Was any of this true? Was all of it or none of it? Who knows? Might make a great book really. Someone could buy the movie rights. Someone could play a younger, slightly more chiseled version of our hero. I'm thinking ,Matt Damon.
     I eventually got those confusing machines worked out, which one was dry and which one was wet, and in what order to use them. I rode out of Hawthorne cleaner, happier, and wondering about all the schlubs out there. They've all got some kind of story to tell. An hour alone with them in the laundromat of a one horse town might be enough to throw off all your first impressions, or maybe just confirm your harshest suspicions. Maybe you just need to pick the right laundry, or the wrong machine.

Populist times, populist choices

     "Populism is an impulse ,not an ideology". Historian Michael Kazin

       This may go down as the most entertaining election for president of our lifetime. You can substitute the word "entertaining" with disturbing, or saddest ,or disastrous if you like. I'm not saying that this election makes me hopeful ,or bolsters my faith in democracy, I'm just pointing out that even when life appears hopelessly out of kilter there is still some amusement to be had.
        Nothing could be more preposterous than the campaign of Donald Trump; preposterous, and apparently unstoppable. He is managing to do what no leading Republican presidential candidate has done and which all have strived for over the last thirty years. He is attracting new blood into the grand old party. His appeal crosses all lines of color, education, ideology, and religious commitment. There seems to be no common denominator to the Trumpians except a generally right of center point of view and a mistrust of Republican party leaders. That ought to define Cruz's support. His Senate career has been all about sticking it in the eye of party leaders, while holding down the right of the party of the right. He has a track record. He has the rhetorical style of a street preacher, but he lacks Trumps gift of banter and over the top bluster. This has brought to Trump the votes that Cruz has failed to win. The message that he presents more skilfully and authentically is muffled by the noise of the Trump circus.
         If you're looking for consistency in the Trump campaign, or evidence of core beliefs you're looking in the wrong direction. What you get from the Trump campaign is Donald Trump, and whatever he happens to believe, or says he believes at that moment. Over the the last sixteen years as Trump has been considering a run, or running for president ,he has changed his views on almost everything. Recently we saw an astounding triple reversal in a three day period. 
        You may have guessed I'm not a Trump fan. That's not to say I'm feeling the Bern either. Bernie represents an opposing populism to Trumps right of center approach. Populism crops up from time to time in American politics, especially during traumatic times. The great depression saw the rise of left wing populist movements ;Father Coughlin and Hughy Long. At the end of the tumultuous 1960s former Democrat governor George Wallace ran as an independent candidate for President to the right of Republicans and Democrats and did a better job of threatening the two party monopoly than anyone apart from Theodore Roosevelt in 1912. The message of populism is this : The people are the rightful rulers and their influence is being usurped by powerful and unscrupulous elites. It's time to take back our party. It's time we take back our nation and throw the bums out! I suppose there's something to be said for that. Does that make me a populist? Populists rarely self identify. I guess that's the second reason for suspecting me of populist tendencies. I deny that that I am one.
       Sanders populism identifies Wall Street bankers as the culprits of choice. Billionaires ,and the rest of the top one percent are not far behind. Somehow in the Sanders imagination if we can get a hold of the piece of their wealth that is truly excess and spread that out to the more deserving we will become another Sweden. Want will be banished, neighbor will look after neighbor, education will be free, and we'll all be driving solar powered Volvos. Oh, happy day!
         Somewhere between Trumps chameleon flexibility, and Sanders democratic socialism, and Cruz's thundering sermons, there must be some less offensive choice in this election. This quieter, more sensible choice would be a doer rather than a blusterer. They would have a track record for getting things done, bringing people of disparate viewpoints together and hammering out consensus, or standing in the way of popular folly when that is called for, and bending popular will to their greater courage or insight like Churchill or Lincoln. They would not be facing indictment for recklessly exposing vital secrets to enemy agents and hackers then lying about it. They would not have a past record of unseemly financial arrangements, or a history of facilitating the threatening of victims of their husbands unwanted sexual advances, or the reputation assassination of those who came forward. I'm asking too much. It's a bit like asking for normal times when the cosmic calender has you scheduled for interesting times instead. In times like these all you may be able to do is sit back and enjoy the show, or at least find a little time for laughter between the tears.

A trappers improbable tale

  Hugh Glass was born near the end of the 18th century. For someone who would make his name in the untamed American west this was either the perfect time to come into the world or the worst. The territory that would later form the western States was raw, primordial, without cities or towns west of St. Louis, hostile to outsiders, and dangerous to anyone that lived there. America had bought this territory from Napoleon when he needed the money to wage war against the British Empire while Glass was still a boy, The United States lacked the resources, or even the population to fully claim it. Into the breach stepped adventures, traders, and entrepreneurs. Glass was among them.
   One version of his story has him becoming the captive of Gulf Coast pirate Jean Lafitte and pressed into service to man his fleet. After his escape from life as as a pirate he went westward to join  the Pawnees, or perhaps, taken captive by them before winning freedom. He took a Pawnee wife and later joined a delegation of chiefs to represent the tribes interests in Saint Louis.., When Saint Louis trader, General William Henry Ashton  assembled a hundred trappers to establish his financial empire in the Rocky Mountains, Glass was chosen as a guide. Ashton business model was innovative, and characteristically American.  His beaver trappers would be largely self financed free trappers. Up until then the fur trade in North America had relied on native Americans to do the trapping, and hired men ( engages) to do the trading. What Ashley introduced was a little like Uber going up against entrenched taxi interests.  It was wildly successful, and it would change the history of the west beyond anything that had happened since the Louisiana Purchase.
    Glass became famous not as a successful trapper or even an explorer, but for the awful mauling he received from a Grizzly sow and his overcoming those injuries after being left for dead by his companions. His story became entwined with the story of the western fur trade. It's also the basis of the Oscar winning film the Revenant starring Leonardo DiCaprio. His struggle to survive was almost super human, and if anything, even more dramatic and improbable than the drama captured on film. 
    I loved the movie, but was disappointed to find it had played so fast and loose with the story as it has been recorded. I don't fault it for moving the action  from its Great Plains setting to the Rockies. The cinematography is stunning, and the setting more in keeping with the old west as we imagine it. Anyhow, where can you film in the Dakotas that looks anything like that territory before large scale farming, powerlines and roads, the damming of its rivers, or fracking?
     Ashton's hundred would become the vanguard of the movement that would discover the ranges and valleys of the western United States long before other European Americans would arrive on their way to the oilfields of California or the forests of Oregon. After the beaver of the American west were nearly wiped out from trapping those trappers who against all odds were still alive, would guide explorers and  surveyors, and emigrants. Manifest destiny was their destiny, made manifest. Their trails became the west's highways, as their camps would become our cities and towns.
       In the almost two centuries since Glass's ordeal so much has changed. It's astonishing that much of the scenery has not.
       As an itinerant bicyclist in the west, looking for a little adventure I move daily through scenes that excite the history buff in me. This last week I cycled from the Northeastern corner of California to Pyramid Lake in Nevada, then South to the Eastern side of the Sierra Nevada range, Mono Lake and the Owens Valley. Wagon trails passed through here during the California gold rush. Kit Carson, himself a former trapper, guided the explorer John C. Fremont across this same route so little changed by the passage of time. To see what they saw, to drink from the same springs and bath in the same hot springs, to watch the moon's rise over the mountains as they did, is a privilege and a thrill. The trail is a little smoother for the grading and the paving, the ride a little faster on two wheels, but the continuity is astonishing. Best of all there's so little danger anymore of being mauled by angry bears, or pierced with arrows .
    

Desert Traveler

     My flight from Philadelphia to Las Vegas on Wednesday night was delayed three hours while we waited for a storm to pass through Las Vegas. We arrived at McCarran a little after midnight. I tried sleeping in the airport. Wasn't very successful. Dawn through the large airport Windows revealed fresh snow on surrounding mountains almost as low as the valley.    
      Only three goals for Thursday;  get bike out of storage unit, obtain food for the following week, and get bike, myself, and food past the edge of town, into the desert for a place to sleep in seclusion. I was asleep by six and didn't rise from bed till dawn, which came at six.
    Seven weeks out of the saddle is long enough for a body to grow fat and soft. When I returned to Las Vegas last week to be reunited with my bicycle and return to this winter's tour I was in less than ideal shape. No matter , the best way to get back in touring shape is to go out and tour, the rest will take care of itself. Fortunately, Las Vegas provides the westbound toured with the perfect opportunity to get back into shape in a hurry. First you have to climb over Mountain Spring Pass with its elevation gain of 3500 feet. If that seems too easy then add a weeks worth of food to your bike trailer. It's a long way from Vegas to the next super market.
       On the climb I met a cyclist heading the other way, going from California to Colorado and another at the summit going my way to the coast but much faster and without all the camping. Over many years of desert travel I've run into only a handful of winter desert touring enthusiasts. Here were two on the same day, an auspicious start.
        Camped that night in the dunes near stump spring , a stop on the old Spanish trail in the early nineteenth century. From this vantage point I could see the lights of Pahrump to the north as well as the sweep of headlights coming down mountain springs pass about fifteen or twenty miles to the east. Sunset was spectacular that evening due to the dramatic clouds being torn from the Springs range and mt. Charleston by the wind.
          The old Spanish Trail connected the former Spanish colony of New Mexico with the towns, missions and ranches of California between 1826 and the Mexican war of 1848. In its earliest years it was an honest, if grueling trade route. In later years it devolved into an outlaw trail for moving Piute slaves and stolen California horses to New Mexico. Kitt Carson famously used it to transfer some of the first samples of ft. Sutter gold to Washington D.C. sparking the California gold rush. It passes through Vegas as well as Moab Utah and San Bernardino California, though most communities along its path are little aware of its significance, it's history, or even of its existence. On many of my desert rides I've enjoyed following its several paths. It's fabulous story adds dimension and depth to otherwise aimless wandering.
        The next day I leave the Spanish Trail at Tecopa hot spring to head north to Shoshone and the the trickle of the Amorgossa river. At Shoshone there are a large number of cars parked, something I've never seen there. As I get closer I see the reason why. An enormous line of people have lined up to enter its only store to by lottery tickets. The line appears to stretch for a quarter mile. These are Las Vegans who have come to this outpost of California to try their luck at the power ball lottery which has entered historic proportions. All will fail to win. Several days later it will roll over to amount to over a billion and a half dollars. Unless the traveled further to buy their lottery tickets at Chino Hills, or Tennessee or Florida the will have purchased them in vain again, at least for that grand jackpot to be split three ways.
           I camped north of Shoshone along the Amorgossa a little south of Death Valley junction. I found a coconut stuck in the mud there and broke it open . It fed me for days. Why a coconut would fall so far from any tree I didn't ask. You take what you can get when it's offered to you. Why question?
          From Death Valley junction where there is an improbably situated hotel with an improbable story of a ballerina willing a once decrepit motel back to life through her art the trail sets west again to Death Valley itself. The pass is easy to reach, with minimal grade, rewarded with eighteen miles of steady, exhilarating descent to Furnace Creek ,the headquarters of the national monument. From there, armed with new maps, I head to Stovepipe Wells and a night in the dunes. The National Monument is a difficult place for free camping. It's part of the National Park service, which frowns on such behavior, and it's mostly open desert land, which doesn't allow itself to easy concealment. You've got to know the territory pretty well, or be extraordinarily lucky to make it happen. It's part of my religion to never pay for a campsite and avoid campgrounds altogether. This is not a religion recognized by the Federal government or any of its branches.
         The next day finds me on the very long ascent to Towne Pass, then veering southward for the still longer ascent of Emigrant Pass. It takes me all day. I begin the descent near sundown, passing a herd of wild burros along the way, as I drop into Wildrose Canyon, which is blessedly wet, fed by a small spring, at its head. A little picnic ground, two or three miles further down, provides a place to sleep conveniently out of the rising wind. Not much chance of being discovered here, the park has closed the road due to washouts.  I have the Panamint mountains all to myself, and the delicious sound of wind of Palm fronds being shaken by the wind to lure me into sleep.
          Wednesday it was south through Panamint valley to Trona. Trina is an odd town of tar paper shacks and unpaved streets like something out of the third world. The major industry is the extraction and processing of minerals from Searles Lake, an enormous dry lake about fifteen miles east of Ridgecrest. As I passed through town I went by the only other cyclist in town at that moment, a black man, who looked up and declared " a desert traveler". I guess I look it. Ill own it.