I’ve been thinking about writing a Why-I-am-voting-for-Obama post.

The motivating force has been the robocall and two ugly pieces of mail the “Republican Federal Committee of Pennsylvania–Victory 2008″ recently sent to my home.

The mailings so despicably and ridiculously smear Obama as “soft on crime” and a supporter of terrorists, that I was moved to post something in response.

Instead, I will simply direct you to Colin Powell’s eloquent endorsement of Obama.

I could not agree more with Powell’s comments and rationale. I share his view that the divisive politics being employed in this presidential campaign are causing terrible harm to our country.

Powell’s comments about the fear-mongering against Muslims were especially good to hear.

At right, is the photo of the grieving mother of an American soldier Powell referenced in his endorsement of Obama.

In what may prompt some to think fondly of the days when flamboyant English kings ruled us, The Wilson Quarterly recently published an essay that describes the American electorate as irrational, ignorant, disinterested, inattentive, uninformed and myopic.

The essay springs from a review of the recently published book on American voters, “Just How Stupid Are We?” by historian Rick Shenkman. The answer, it seems, is “exceptionally.”

The WQ essay also references “American Voter, a 1960 report published by the University of Michigan. It describes “the general impoverishment of political thought in a large proportion of the electorate.” Voters are described as “unsophisticated … with little grasp of issues.” The researchers revisited their work using surveys from 2000 and 2004 and, 50 years later, found nothing had changed.

It seems that the heart of the matter is that we Americans have little interest in politics or politicians. We inherit or develop notions of political ideals and then crudely affix them to the candidates we perceive—correctly or not–as most closely like ourselves. These “information shortcuts,” as the political scientists call them, are the essential informers of the electorate.

One might imagine that voters employing that level of thinking could be mightily influenced by negative campaign messages. Suspicious of fundamentalist religion? Then you may respond well to mocking portrayals of Gov. Sarah Palin’s faith. Gravely concerned about national security? Then you may be susceptible to smearing suggestions that Barack Obama’s middle name is evidence of Arab terrorist roots.

Yes, we may typically take shortcuts with our political thinking. We’re busy making a living, raising families and hoping beyond hope that the Phillies win the pennant.

But in atypical times, when wars are raging, families are being bankrupted and American ideals are being perverted to base political ends?

Then, I think the American voter can be quite astute, and quite unlikely to be fooled by negative nonsense.

The quintessential American actor–Paul Newman–died last night.

Newman was a powerful role model for many men of my generation. His sense of humor, personal fidelity and responsibility, philanthropy, love of daring risk and sensitivity to the ‘average’ guy, informed the masculinity of millions of us.

With those ice-blue eyes, he could have easily settled for a career as a matinee idol. Instead, he always seemed to find or develop roles of immense power counterbalanced with crippling weakness.

From Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’s Brick Pollit to Butch Cassidy; Judge Roy Bean to Fast Eddie Felson; Hud Bannon to ‘Cool Hand’ Luke, his portrayals could make even weak movies great.

What a bright light he was. That light will continue not just in his films, but in the charities he funded and the charity he inspired.

Aren’t presidential election campaigns supposed to be an opportunity for us to see the candidates under pressure?

Aren’t campaigns supposed to be opportunities for us to question candidates?

I think the Republicans’ move to ’suspend’ the campaign in the face of the national financial crisis says a lot about their cynical view of the election process.

The campaign is not some kind of frivolous carnival that is now in the way of important business!

The campaign is a critically important national discussion of where we are going as a nation and who should lead us.

But to the folks who want to shield a national political neophyte from reporters’ questions while trying to put her a heartbeat away from the presidency; who prefer talking about lipstick on pigs to important issues, then yes, I can see why they would view the campaign as a distraction from what’s important.

One of the most disappointing aspects of this election is the timidity with which the national press has dealt with the cloistering of Sarah Palin.

How much longer will Americans tolerate the sham that our political process is becoming?

September 11 left a lot of marks on the American landscape—some positive, like the renewed appreciation for police, fire and rescue workers; and some negative, like the pervasive fear of Islamic faith communities and Middle Eastern people.

But the most profound legacy of 9-11 is what it has done to our politics.

Political discourse in this country was already getting more shrill and divisive before 9-11. But what began as the roar of the falling towers, continued as the “shock and awe” over Baghdad, and continues still in the hateful, ideology-fueled shouting matches that permeate our media.

Some call it the “culture wars.” I see that term as yet another example of how Republican and Democratic “strategists” continue to play Americans against one another for the sole purpose of advancing their businesses–and both national parties have certainly become big businesses.

Nine-11 prompted us to ask a question: What, in God’s name, would inspire such a hateful, evil attack on us?

Some of us settled on easy answers, including President’s Bush’s absurdly simple: “They hate our freedom.”

But some have pointed out that America’s brutal, oil-centered manipulation of foreign governments—including supporting tyrants like Saddam Hussein and Iranian Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlav, had sown and nourished the seeds of hate in an area of the world that otherwise had little interest in American affairs.

That seems roughly where the two American camps stand today. Each is outraged over the other’s position. We are no longer a nation of different people with different ideas and a common love of country.

We are a nation of people divided into one side that “gets it,” and another side of idiots. Our political discourse is limited to mocking insults and stereotypical name-calling. Our great-grandparents would be appalled.

One camp inexplicably mocks a candidate’s community service and his announcement that he “is a citizen of the world.” The other camp cruelly ridicules devotion to faith and God.

We are giving new meaning to the term “ugly Americans.” We are better than this. We know we are better than this.

Don’t we?

I love you much. [but] it’s not enough that you love blow and I love puff.
Amy Winehouse
Back to Black

I have dear friends with appalling politics. As you might expect, they would tell you the same thing. Lately, though, we’re wondering why, after many years of evenings spent in spirited political discourse, we now seem unable to keep civil tongues in our heads when we’re discussing politics.

Like Winehouse’s song of a relationship that revolves around a woman’s love of crack cocaine, and her man’s love of traditional cocaine, our political discussions are no longer strengthening and enriching our understanding of one another–they are just casting a pall over it.

To these friends, my views are predictably liberal. To me, their views are built merely to defend their conservative ideology.

Ideology is the insidious drug that we’re sharing.

So, friends, let’s move to a higher level of political discourse. And in this new place, to paraphrase Shakespeare’s Henry VI, first let’s kill all the idealogues.

In our discussions, let’s agree to stop saying things like:

… that’s typical liberal claptrap.

… conservatives always say that.

… conservatives reduce everything to money.

… liberals just want big government.

Just as we instructed our children on the playground, let’s make it a rule that we are not allowed to use labels against each other. Even if you really believe any of those statements, let’s refuse to employ them in the understanding that they do nothing to persuade or advance your argument.

Let’s replace the heated exchanges of accusations, with exchanges of questions.

“What informs your opinion?”

“Do you not think X is true?”

“Do you not think X is important?”

Instead of hurling “facts” at one another in order to knock down ideological walls, let’s step outside those walls and try to shed light on our disagreements.

Now, if any of my friends were in the camp that believes liberalism is, in and of itself, wrong, we would have nothing to discuss.

Luckily, all of my friends are smarter than that.

* * * * * * *

When it comes to defending ideological walls, Alaskan Gov. Sarah Palin seems to be a near Joan of Arc.

My conservative friends are so enthralled with her–and, hey, I’m impressed by her, too!–that I hate to pour water on their enthusiasm.

So, instead, I’ll direct them to the well-chosen words of former Easton Express editor Chris Satullo.

Dear Mr. President,

Thank you for your too-brief remarks to the 2008 RNC delegates last evening. Until now, I have been extremely concerned about the course you have charted for our country. At last, I understand that the problems have nothing to do with you or your administration, and everything to do with me, and my cohorts in the Angry Left.

In your endorsement of John McCain, you compared me and my kind to the Viet Cong:

“Fellow citizens: If the Hanoi Hilton could not break John McCain’s resolve to do what is best for his country, you can be sure the Angry Left never will.”

It was yet another example of how you and your party are Uniters, not Dividers. Thank you.

The Anger Management Therapy session represented by your party’s convention proceedings were not lost on me! Here are some highlights:

* The stunning gall with which Fred Thompson belittled the Democrat-controlled Congress as “the least popular in history,” without mentioning the fact that you, Mr. President, hold that same honor in spades.

* Thompson’s characterization of Barack Obama’s successful appearances in Europe as a: “teleprompter speech designed to appeal to American critics abroad…” again invoking your party’s two favorite election tools: zenophobia and blindingly arrogant patriotism.

* Thompson’s characterization of the Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin as an unfairly besieged woman and political reformer, neatly side-stepping the fact that her most objectionable qualities are her hypocritic claim to be a hockey mom (what does that mean? Do all hockey moms with infant babies at home seek national office?), her opposition to women’s reproductive rights, and her belief that creationism should be taught in schools.

* Former NYC Mayor Rudy Giulianni’s comedy schtick with Fox News’ GOP sycophant Sean Hannity mocking Obama’s experience as being limited to “community activism. What exactly is community activism? Can you tell me what community activism is? I don’t know what that means!”

* The multiple references to “Bring the troops home with honor,” as though the deployment decisions of the Commander-In-Chief have any bearing on the honor of our troops. The tying together of those two things is among the most appalling examples of bad thinking.

* And, of course, Thompson’s and others’ frequent references to the inadequacies of Washington and the desperate need for reform without a breath of irony over the fact that they are talking about a Washington that their party has controlled for nearly eight years.

Thanks, Mr. President, your therapy worked. I’m feeling much less angry.

The Oakland Hills area of Bethlehem, where I live, was once all farmland. Now it just grows roughly three houses per acre, so you can imagine my delight at discovering a fox in the neighborhood. I first saw it in a field of subdivided by as yet not built upon plots.

A few months ago, the calm of an early morning walk was interrupted by one of my neighbors firing up a chain saw to have-at a dead tree. The racket startled me and fairly terrified the fox, which caught my eye as he or she shot across the knee-high field grass in huge bounds. It looked then like a gray fox instead of the more common red color variation.

PHOTO BY DMITRIY KARELIN (Copyright; all rights reserved): A wild red fox.

This morning, shortly before 7, I was walking along the same field, which had recently been cut; its grasses left in long, scattered piles. I spotted what appeared to be a large house cat trotting across the field, perhaps 200 yards away. Then I spotted the long bushy tail. I stopped and watched. The fox noticed that I stopped, too. He watched me a few seconds, then went back to work. This time, perhaps because of the distance and the early-morning sunlight, the animal appeared more reddish.

Have you ever seen one of those nature programs in which an arctic fox stands still, cocks its head to listen for rodents, then jumps nearly straight up to pounce into the snow?

Well, that’s what this fox was doing! Except that, instead of snow, he was pouncing into piles of dried grass. The hunting didn’t appear too fruitful, though. It may have been my presence, or perhaps the growing daylight that got the fox trotting again. After a 10-minute show, he disappeared into a hedgerow.

The sighting reminded me of a rather disturbing story I’d read about the exploding population of foxes in–of all places–Berlin, Germany. Some people are actually hand-feeding the wild animals–never a good idea. But in this case it’s really dangerous because of the growing presence of a horrible parasite carried by the Berlin foxes. The parasite …, well, if you really want to know about it, you can read all about it here: http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/0,1518,511825,00.html.

I hope my neighborhood’s fox population stays healthy. For one, it could make a dent in the local rabbit population. Sometimes you can see in my yard as many as five rabbits frolicking, fighting or, um, shall we say rocking the Casbah? It’s like a scene from that classic horror flick “Night of the Lepus” around here.

I am banned from working on my home. I may mow the lawn, take out the trash, even tighten a minimally leaking faucet. But for all else, I must hire help.

It’s not that I’m a mechanical idiot. No, wait, it is precisely that I am a mechanical idiot that has prompted my ban from home repair projects.

In my heart, I know the ban is unfair. But even the best arguments in my defense make me sound like Larry Flynt defending pornography’s right to exist. Yes, yes, it’s all logically sound but no one wants to hear it anyway.

I could detail (and defend) a hundred home improvement catastrophes, but the only one that is or ever will be needed to prosecute me was launched a few years ago as my wife, Cathy, and I were preparing to host a party to celebrate our daughter’s graduation from high school.

Actually, Cathy was doing all the preparing. A week before the event, over morning coffee, I was marveling at her plans. It looked like it was going to be a sensation. I was inspired to get more involved and asked how I could help.

Cathy thought a moment (mentally eliminating potentially explosive projects). “The thing I would really like for you to do is to paint the front door.”

I rejoiced. Indeed! That door was a mess! This was a project of great promise and prominence. I had a flash vision of myself welcoming our guests into the elegant portal of our home, “My word,” they would whisper to one another, “10 Downing Street has nothing on this place. Just look at the …”

“What color?” I asked. “Black?” Cathy thought a moment, “I’d love a nice, rich burgundy,” she replied.

“… rich, lustrous burgundy lacquer and polished brass kickplates. What a showplace!”

Two days before the party, I arose before dawn to look over the highly polished brass pieces I had slaved over, and then to run off to the closest big-box home-a-torium store to buy the paint.

And there, as in so many of my home projects, is where things began to sour.
Continue Reading »

Few things relax my brow and soothe my soul like the annual TD Invitational golf weekend. It involves a dozen guys, a lot of golf (36 holes a day!), cigars, great food and open-hearted willingness to share life’s triumphs and trials.

Like Yale’s Skull and Bones Club, all proceedings are held in deep confidence, but I will share some photos from the weekend..

pni07e2