All Politics is Loco

I love politics. Being a competitive, statistics-loving person who mocks egregiously misinformed statements and ridicules abject displays of idiocy, what's not to like? My husband is also a fan of the political process, so it used to be that every two years (don't forget mid-term elections) we would have a bevy of things to talk about. We lived in Washington, DC, at the time, to make it even more fun. Early into our marriage, Newt and Monica made their dramatic cameo appearances, and life--and small-talk--has never been the same.

We now live in Los Angeles, but never warmed up to the actor-celebrity thing. Recently, Matt Damon and Scarlett Johansson were filming a movie not 50 yards from our house. We liked this very much, not because Matt and Scarlett were roaming the street, but because a perk of living in Los Angeles is that the studios pay homeowners handsomely whenever filming is done in your neighborhood. I think it is to compensate for any parking spaces the studio trucks take up, but I secretly suspect it is to pay off residents so they don't complain if a production flunkie accidentally flicks a cigarette butt on a street corner and it isn't cleaned up within the limits of the five-second rule.

Although I am indifferent to brushes with movie folk, I will admit to breathlessly calling my husband after a chance encounter with the late Howard Metzenbaum (D-Ohio) outside of our place in Washington in the late 1990s. And years later, when Carl Levin (D-Michigan) gave my six-year-old son the evil eye when my son sneezed in the US Senate elevator, I was beside myself with excitement. Maybe Levin will describe the incident on the floor of the Senate and introduce some anti-snot legislation, and my son will be immortalized in the Senatorial record!

My enthrallment with political figures wasn't always so ardent. As a baby, I apparently met then-Massachusetts-Governor Francis W. Sargent at a lobster restaurant on Cape Cod, but I am guessing the oyster crackers received more of my attention than the politician. In 1980, after the US Olympic Hockey Team won a gold medal, I attended a reception at the State House (my mother had an in) where I undoubtedly offended Governor Edward J. King (whose term was sandwiched between two Dukakis gubernatorial turns) by asking him not to autograph the program I was handing him, but to pass it along to the handsome locally grown team member, Jim Craig. And for years, a personally autographed (to my brother) glossy of Dukakis remained one of our family's favorite mementos for its kitsch value. Really, who would have thought he would be a future presidential candidate? The signed photo still has kitsch value only.

While others were keeping tally of the social lives of New Kids on the Block, I was completely on top of identifying the senior and junior from every state. I have found politics to be a terrific spectator sport (I am a fan of any sport that requires no physical exertion). I worked for a number of candidates running for Congressional seats and probably learned more than I needed to know about the inner workings of the political process. One of my more benign memories involved driving with fellow campaign workers in my enormous red two-door Chevy Malibu from Boston to the outskirts of Maryland to work for our candidate's sister (from a famous political family), also running for office.  We of the snotty New England prep school scene were advised to local-up our privileged patter to appeal to the voters of Towson, Maryland's congressional district. One lesson that perhaps all should be aware of is even the most popular politicians bring busloads of supporters with hundreds of pre-printed signs to any event where there might be a camera within 10 miles. When you see political events on TV with maniacally waving signs supporting the appearing candidate, be very wary.

Now, being both a parent and political observer, I am amused to see how similar the behavior is of politicians and young children. The not-so-bright school kids who are so confident in their parent-fed opinions are likely to be reps-in-training. The kiss-ass who Eddie Haskells his way through middle school has public servant written all over him.  The tantrumming kid is, of course, a future filibusterer. And I don't mean the awesome Bernie Sanders (I-Vermont) kind, if you know what I mean. The two-party system smacks of elementary school cliques--boys versus girls, and don't make them be partners on a field trip. Ahh, the name-calling--does calling someone "Poopy Face" differ from a meanspirited cry of "Socialist"?? And the legislative process is so reminiscent of a preschooler's focus on inconsequential details to the detriment of the big picture--"I will not get in the car without my pink headband." All age-appropriate in 5 year olds, not so much in adults. No offense to my children's wonderful schoolmates, but the antics of a classroom of first-graders reminds me of the cast of characters in Congress, with the same possible outcome: It's all in good fun until someone gets hurt.

Baby vs. Bathwater

I can only think of one friend I have ever had who was from Arizona. Her family was not originally from there, but they had moved when her father's company relocated. We went to school in New York together, and she was intent on proving her non-Arizona-ness. I visited her family during a school break and was bewildered by the lemon trees growing on every front lawn in the tract housing neighborhood. It had never occurred to me that fruit trees grew outside of orchards in Florida, where their specific purpose was to produce citrus products. There were very few other plantings, just a lawn and the tree. We spent much of the visit smirking at the locals in a way that snarky, self-assured college students do. Her family subsequently moved to Portland, Oregon, which, I suppose, is about as anti-Arizona as you can get.

I know there are lovely areas of Arizona, such as Bisbee and Sedona, and I have not made it a mission to snub Arizonians. I have no particular theory as to why I have friends and family members from all corners of the world, but none from a state that borders my very own. Since I apparently have no friends to offend in the Grand Canyon State, I will unequivocally state that I continue to be horrified by acts that are committed in that sunny state, nearly all of them stemming from a political and value system that I find abhorrent. Of course, I am fully cognizant that these views do not represent all Arizonians, and clearly many have spoken out against the rhetoric, politics, and actions that have transpired in the past several years and have gotten progressively more hateful.

However, my family has a relatively new tradition of going to baseball Spring Training every year. Since we live on the West Coast and it is not practical to see our beloved Red Sox at the Grapefruit League in Florida, we trek to Arizona to see pre-season games in the Cactus League. Shortly after our trip last year, SB 1070, which mandated residents show their residency "papers" to law enforcement, became law. The obvious bigotry and unfairness of that law as it was originally conceived gave me significant pause as to whether we would return to Arizona under those conditions. The law was subsequently modified somewhat, so it was with mixed feelings that we booked this year's trip to Spring Training. More recent events again give me pause.

Boycotting based on high-profile events is something that equally gives me pause. I remember being in school in the 1980s when there was awareness about Apartheid and students protesting the university's stock holdings in companies that had holdings in companies in South Africa. I understood why they were taking this stand, but also thought about how many other corporations do business in ways and places that are loathsome. While I supported the protests, I wondered if there were any companies that presented no moral conflicts, or at least none that conflicted with my worldview. Life is complicated. This issue comes up over and over as knee-jerk boycotts are suggested on listserves and viral emails based on anecdotal interpretations of policies. A friend boycotts a book chain because she heard the store wouldn't deliver books to a friend whose relative was in prison. As someone who works in the justice system, I see how important access to books are for people who are incarcerated, so I see her point. For many reasons, I personally refuse to ever step foot in a Denny's or Wal Mart. But her information was fourth hand, anecdotal and not verified, but she takes the stand anyway. I applaud her convictions, but prefer to understand policies and decisions in a broader context before making my own decisions.

Honor and Honor Students: A Bumpy Road Ahead

Let me be upfront about my belief: The sole purpose of a bumper sticker is to express one’s allegiance politically (national and statewide candidates only) and athletically (ideally, a team with a winning record in the season during which the sticker was purchased). Messages whizzing by in the carpool lane do not lend themselves to nuance or ambiguity. If people need to pull over and google on their iPhones what is on the bumper in front of them, it then becomes a public safety issue. The goal of a bumper sticker is to educate, not endanger, your four-wheeled friends.

A bumper sticker has achieved its end if the person following the car has to squelch the urge either to wave at the driver in solidarity or rear-end the car in question by gunning the accelerator. Obama—not Bush. Red Sox—not Yankees. Hugging with Nuclear Arms—probably not a good idea. These moral decision trees are difficult enough to navigate at a hard stop, let alone while driving 75 miles an hour. And throw in the insistent voice of an automated GPS dominatrix and you can see how the average driver is being pushed to the limit.

When it comes to bumper sticker protocol, I’m referring to those stickers that adhere directly to a car’s back bumper (also called a rear fender). Not the transparent ones that go on the back window, which should abide by a different set of rules. Those should identify an accredited alma mater of either the car’s owner or a first-degree relative. The school must have an actual campus (not just a floor in a high-rise) and be legally permitted to confer degrees. If the person is still attending the school, they should be full-time enrollees, not part of any extension, visiting or evening program. Otherwise, the driver should be able to produce on demand (like at a red light or traffic stop) proof that someone in the family has an actual bachelor’s, master’s or doctoral degree from the school identified on the window. Of course, stickers on the back window should not depict a family of 8 with stick-figure drawings (with or without pets) in descending order of height. They should not glorify characters from Calvin and Hobbes urinating. And, it goes without saying, they should never, ever pay homage to any sort of religious figure or so-called spiritual personal belief.

The subject of the bumper sticker must be one that has been recently debated on a national Cable Television Network. The message should leave no doubt as to the driver’s leanings. Of course, if this means that some car owners may be more vulnerable to auto theft or burglary than others, then that is the price one has to pay for expressing their First Amendment Rights. One should be able to look at a pimped ride and picture the driver perhaps having cocktails with Keith Olbermann, or watching SportsCenter in Packers pajamas. The freeway is not the time to challenge fellow drivers to translate your message from a foreign tongue, or to promote a regional cause that will be meaningless to the driver in back of you. If you absolutely never take the Ford outside of your suburban cul-de-sac, then I suppose, if you must, you can get away with a sticker that touts a local restaurant or bar, for example. And then it should be because you are a frequent patron, not because the bumper sticker was free or you thought putting it on your car makes you seem edgier than you actually are.

Another ilk where there is no gray area whatsoever is the “Proud Parent of an Honor Student at… ” bumper sticker. First of all, I have never seen one of these stickers proclaim there to be “Proud Parents” or “Proud Relative Caregiver” or “Kind of Embarrassed Kin.” So these bumper stickers in and of themselves are making some sort of statement that in order for a child to be the recipient of “pride,” s/he must have a singular parent who is also a car owner/lessee. And if we start with that assumption, the constellation of students with the aforementioned auto-owning caregiver who ALSO get above-average grades is even smaller. For example, I do not believe any of my relatives have ever attended a school that had such bumper stickers available. And, truthfully, stressed teachers do not need added pressure from the administrations of those few schools who have stockpiled these stickers to produce good students. From a business model standpoint, the production of these stickers hardly seems worth it.

I have taken an informal sample of the bumpers of neighbors who I suspect may have excellent students, and I have yet to see any statement about their child’s grades affixed to their car. But more to the point, with the length of time people keep cars nowadays, such bumper stickers are rife with ethical dilemmas. First of all, Honor Student Status is only as good as the last report card. I mean, getting an “A” in one semester does nothing to mitigate a “D” the next. So by gluing onto an automobile public evidence of a parent’s presumed “pride” over an offspring’s academic accomplishment, the parent is banking on the fact that the child will continue to achieve at the same rate. If not, the parent risks being the laughingstock of his/her school district. Just as I believe people with university stickers on their windows should produce a diploma on demand, parents with these “Honor Student” stickers should be required to have a current report card in the glove compartment at all times.

I wonder about what goes on in the homes of families with these stickers. Are children discouraged from taking challenging courses so as not to risk their A’s, lest mom or dad has to trade in the Honda before the lease is up? Does the child have to work at a fast-food establishment to pay for the fees incurred by turning in the car early? Are students who fall from Honor Roll punished by having to apply Goo-Gone to the back bumper until every trace of the sticker is gone? Will the children have to start walking to school so as not to be associated with the cars touting their former glory? Alas, there are no easy answers.  

Meg and the Maid

I am not a supporter of Meg Whitman, but the maid scandal is ridiculous. Many people do not automatically assume someone is lying. I live in Southern Cal and people come from all over the world under all kinds of situations. If someone has official identification and has been referred from an agency, most people--especially someone busy running a Fortune 500 company with a spouse who is also gainfully employed--do not spend the bulk of their time wondering whether the person who cleans their house while they are at work is lying about their legal status. Seriously. And the only reason I have heard of that people employ someone with legal issues is to pay under the table--there is no point going through all of the draconian motions of IRS paperwork if you are employing someone who is not eligible to receive benefits! Also, many spouses/partners--especially those where both are busy working-- do not necessarily spend their shared time discussing whether one of them gave the employee an innocuous note to follow up on what looked like a very mundane issue (a change of name could trigger the IRS not finding someone's SSN info). If my partner followed up with an employee, he would not share this info with me unless there was something amiss that I needed to continue to follow up on. We are both competent adults (as, I assume, are Meg Whitman and her husband) and these are just not the types of issues that most partners/parents/working people obsess over.