United Front for National Salvation? Not A Bad Idea.

I heard a fellow named Larry Kleinman the other day. He's a well-known organizer on the Left Coast.

He's also a well-known writer. His commentaries have an excellent following. He was on a Zoom call with other organizers, discussing what we have to do between now and the November election.

Yeah, it's late April. Turn the page to next week, and we're six months out. I've been around; that's not a real long time. If you're going to get something started, now would be the time.

That's especially true with the virus all around us. A lot of organizing must be done online now. Though it's the best way to connect people, door-to-door is pretty much out of possibility.

We are at an existential moment, which has been obvious for a while now. The damage that 45 has done to this country--now expanded by his intentional delay on the virus, pretending it'll go away on its own; check the New York Times on 4/29--will take a long, long time to repair, perhaps longer than the next presidential term.

But there must be a presidential term without him in it for that to begin. We are terribly wounded by this man's trampling; our system needs to breathe.

Kleinman's discussion was a grab-bag of ideas but some unmistakably blunt ones: for instance, that the survivalists will want to promote the scarcity that will undoubtedly accompany the pandemic. The front edge of that is currently being touted by Tyson, which says that tons and tons of meat will go to waste because the supply line is now wearing thin. We already know that Idaho potato farmers and Wisconsin dairy farmers have had to ruin their produce because there are far fewer markets for them. Our tone-deaf president has evoked the Defense Production Act to save meat, but not to produce masks.

So the state for panic is being set by the virus and our pitiful response to it. The survivalists, say Kleinman, will want to tout an authoritarian response to that scarcity, creating a neo-fascist state that would, I think, please 45 and people like Stephen Miller to no end. If that happens, guns will take over our society in a fashion that will be truly frightening, instead of occasionally so.

We are nearing the edge of that precipice. But Kleinman has something that might get in the way of that: What he called the United Front for National Salvation. There are six months to go before the election: Six months of mischief for 45 to pull. Things will get far worse before they get better. There must be an entity that will push back against this president's worse inclinations.

In a sense, Joe Biden, the presumptive Democratic presidential nominee, has been at cross-purposes. Hunkering down in his home, he's been unable to get out and start really campaigning. But 45's mistakes and faux pas have allowed him to get away with that. In effect, he's winning the campaign (ahead in several battleground states) so far by default.

But that won't last forever. We're going to hit bottom. Some economic recovery is likely, especially this summer. 45 will try to make it look like first, he's responsible for that (even though he says he's not responsible for the spread of the virus); and second, that everything will eventually be okay and not to worry and vote for him anyhow. And that will, incredibly, gain some traction.

Biden must engineer a response. He can't have the luxury of sitting there until November. Yet, promoting rallies runs against the social distancing that's key to flattening the curve. Now what?

The United Front for National Salvation can create a Biden shadow Cabinet. He can act now, instead of waiting for the normal vetting. Instead of just naming a running mate, he can name an entire set of assistants to reassure the country that the moment he becomes president, he won't waste a single moment in righting this terribly listing ship.

Not only that, but he can empower them to make public comments when people in their positions in 45's Cabinet do things that counteract good governmental policy. Think of someone as Biden's shadow Secretary of Education, for instance, objecting to damn near everything Betsy DuVos is doing in that position, which would be pretty easy to do. Whatever she would do would have a strong response, distributed to the mainstream press, which would be duty-bound to report it since it would be directly connected to the Democratic nominee. Bingo--a policy debate before the election that would demonstrate, directly, how the new government would act.

It might calm people down. It might mute panic, because people would know that help would be on the way. All they would have to do is go and vote. They would know exactly what they're voting for. It would be all out in front of them.

And there's nothing 45 could do about it but tweet. He looks worse and worse as he falls all over himself. It would be comical if it weren't so deadly serious.

Would those tweets be fierce? Of course. They've always been fierce and full of innuendos and lies. But standing up to them have to be a prerequisite for winning this election, anyhow, either implicitly by ignoring them or explicitly by response. Either way, the nation will be watching.

I like Kleinman's idea. It's not bullet-proof, because it would put a great deal of trust in that Cabinet. But confusion and uncertainty are 45's best weapons, and they would be muted by a running, calming commentary that would be authorized by, but not always stated by, the Democratic candidate, who's been known to make a few gaffes himself.

But this is an idea out there on the Left Coast. It hasn't gotten anywhere near him yet. I just had a thought: I still have some thin ties to the NEA. And I know they're fond of him; he and former president Dennis Van Roekel were like buddies. (I have a 'holy picture' of him and wife Jill from 2007) I'm going to try to reach out and see if this idea can have some legs. It's too good to just leave it sit inside someone else's blog.

45 can be intercepted and deflected, which would be utilizing his best weapon against him. He's going to be more desperate as we approach November, because he now knows he's in trouble. His bag of tricks isn't empty yet. We must gird ourselves against it.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

So What Do They Want?

As you may know, the Republicans in the Wisconsin State Legislature, who outnumber Democrats because of unfair gerrymandering, want a slice of the decision-making pie.

Or, not. Maybe they want the whole deal. Maybe they want to control the process. You have to wonder.

The Republicans sued Governor Tony Evers the other day because they think that his May 26 expiration date of Safe at Home is too far off. They are worried, as are most Republicans, that the economy won't recover sufficiently.

I have news: That's not going to happen anyhow. People know that going outside is still taking risks. They're going to limit their excursions to the least possible interactions. The president, a Republican, is providing no leadership in getting testing and a vaccine. He just wants to make money again as soon as possible.

Has it occurred to any of them that the longer you wait, the surer the exit plan will be, the better the economy will be, too? Has it occurred to any of them that, the more confident people will be, the quicker and more robust the economy?

Opening stores won't make people rush into them. Safety will. People who want to spend money aren't as crazy to do so as the people who want to make it. When things are safe, the economy will purr like a kitten and it will quickly look like nothing has happened.

But that time's a long way off now. Social distancing is paying off, but not right away. It is a slow, tiring slog. You can't pretend that people are sure if they're not. If you set the table, you must still wait for people to be seated. If I'm not sure, I won't do it. Whenever the economy is allowed to come back, it will limp along for some time.

There is no security. Nobody knows who is infected and who isn't. It's now common knowledge that lots of people are asymptomatic carriers. Social distancing is still necessary. There's no vaccine; that apparently won't happen for at least another year. Testing is not common. Who are we kidding here?

So you have to wonder what the deal is with Republicans. Is their brand, making money, being sullied to an embarrassing degree? Will people forget that they passed a tax cut to help mainly the very wealthy, to the cost of most of the rest of us?

Or is it that in Wisconsin, there's a fear of embarrassment because other states are slowly opening things back up and they will look, well, wimpy? And a Republican cannot look wimpy, especially now that it has a party leader who will guard against that no matter what.

Do they just want a seat at the decision-making table? But the Wisconsin constitution gives the governor powers to cut back on commerce in case of an epidemic. Those powers are unilateral; the governor has the power to make emergency decisions for "persons and property," but he's also limited to 60 days without legislative approval. So could say that he's just taking the time he's been given.

A change in the Wisconsin state constitution takes a majority vote by both houses of two consecutive legislatures; in other words, it has to wait until an election intervenes and then try again. Then the voters must approve in a separate election. Heavy lift, and moot in terms of this situation.

Haven't legislative Republicans lost their street credibility after getting people sick--as has been proven--by bullying the state into voting in the last election, without delay? The state Supreme Court, also dominated by Republicans, backed that decision, nullifying Evers' attempt to delay the election until June. So you might say that they're utilizing their advantage while they have it, even though it backfired and 54% of the electorate voted against the guy they wanted on the state Supreme Court.  The high court's balance of Republicans has been cut to 4-3 now, so they'd better hurry while there are no more elections on the horizon and with time, maybe voters' memories won't be fresh.

That's cynical, and there's no greater cynicism than having the voters outside during an epidemic. So I'm sure the Wisconsin legislative Republicans are figuring that as long as they got away with that, why not try to rein in Evers' powers some more?

Either that, or they just want a seat at the negotiating table. I wonder if Evers will agree to do that, but if he's smart, that decision will be driven primarily by science, as his Safe at Home decision has already been.

As it is, Evers' order allows the following businesses to stay open: Healthcare providers; groceries; bakeries; pharmacies; family caregivers; convenience stores; gas stations; pet supply stores; liquor stores; businesses providing food and beverage manufacturing, processing and distribution; animal shelters; banks; insurance offices; hardware stores; carpenters, electricians and plumbers; laundromats; post offices; office supply and IT equipment; transportation services like busses, taxis, Uber and Lyft; and hotels and motels but no workout rooms, hot tubs or pools.

Starting April 24, curbside book exchanges can take place at the library. And you can play golf though clubhouses are closed.

Sounds like a thorough list, though you can't get a haircut. We're all going to look pretty shaggy by May 26. Otherwise, unemployment has soared in Wisconsin as it has elsewhere. I heard on NPR the other day that unemployment will probably hit 16% later this year. That's devastating.

So I get why Republicans are worried, and why they want a say in what constitutes a "necessary" business. But it's better to be too tough at the start than having to get tough later. People are edgy and angry enough the way it is. But the virus is still out there, still raising havoc, still taking lives. If you were the governor, what would you do? How could you look yourself in the mirror?

Tony Evers, despite his calm manner, is being something the president says he is but actually isn't: Strong and decisive. The state has not yet been overrun by this virus, though it's suffered plenty. I would use those numbers as evidence in the hearing to come. I would put forth this simple concept: Steady as it goes. And I would definitely bring in the sickness that the election, and the decision that the court made earlier, brought.

Technically, Evers' second order goes past the 60 days that the state constitution says he can control things: His first order went into effect on March 25, and the end of the second order takes place on May 26, 62 days later. So Republicans can quibble with that if they want and take back Memorial Day weekend. But it looks like they want limitations to end May 1, to keep up with states with Republican governors, and that's too soon. We can dodge a major bullet if we just hang in there, as annoying and uncomfortable as it is. Let's hope the Wisconsin Supreme Court steps aside from its primarily partisan stance and agrees.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Yes. It's Lonely. You Have to Fight It, and the Virus, Each Day.

I saw it for the first time yesterday morning. The Boston Globe did an article on what it's like to live alone during this malady. Most people who live alone chose to live alone, figuring like me that they had ultimate choice and freedom. The virus has other plans.

I expected to be alone a great deal. I'm living in Milwaukee, where I don't know a lot of people, but where people are still close by. I chose it because it's fairly near my aging but still fairly agile parents. It creates a 200-mile rough line among my brothers, Appleton to Chicago. Nobody's more than four hours from each other. It's already been very helpful.

The East Side, most specifically the Downer Avenue area, is extremely close by. People were jealous when they learned my location. A movie house, a great bookstore, two fine coffee shops and a couple of fun restaurants were within easy walking distance.

Until, of course, this awful thing. Now it really doesn't matter all that much. It's a gamble to go outside, even with a mask.

The article says that people are worried that their social skills will go lagging. I suppose they will, but common consideration becomes primary now. You have to stay out of people's ways, and they should stay out of yours. If you're anti-social, this is your time.

But few people actually are. Most, like me, are choosy. We engage, sometimes, anonymously but with friendly inclinations. We like to make people's days by opening doors for heavy-laden women, making clerks smile, starting conversations with folks we're pretty sure share our views. It feels better to connect, however briefly. I liked to take the laptop and write in those coffee shops; it loosens up the mind a little.

On the way to the mailbox yesterday, en route to an eight-block walk, a young boy (I'm guessing five), without a mask, was with scooter and poised right in front of it, just waiting there. I called out to him to please go up the sidewalk a bit. His older sister heard me and called out to him. He looked at her: "Why?"

Because, young man, you don't know anything. The virus rules, and maybe not you, but you might be a carrier and absolutely evil to someone like me, who might not survive an attack. Sorry. On another day, I'd approach and tell you that scooter looks pretty neat.

It is something of a respite to go outside on walks, but not that much. People approach you, and the first thing you want to do is cross the street. I don't think anyone's offended now. I wave at some. Some wave back.

Are others having trouble with sleep? Just the general tone of the times, the constant anxiety, takes its toll. Each day one can give thanks, but each day you wake with a new, old question: Do I have it?

I've tried to sign up for giving blood, to give so others may live, and to feel as if I'm helping. The spots are jammed, which is a good thing, actually. People are thinking of others in ways that aren't demonstrative, but thinking nonetheless.

But conversation is a craving. I call people I haven't called in years. It goes well, mostly, and I wonder what the hell took me so long. Then I consider them, and the simple fact that they haven't called, either. But just about all of them are busy with their families, so I'm not a priority. That's what you get when you're single, male, and looking in.

Books help, and I've got a slew of them. But they only talk back after a fashion. It gets hard to concentrate when it's the main source of recreation. I even have to take a break from that.

Of course, there's TV, but if you've noticed, there's not much there except cable's incessant droning on how awful all of this is and, if you don't watch Fox News, how 45 seems almost complicit in it. This was a bad joke from the start, and now it isn't even a joke. It's serious, and we have the worst possible person in the worst possible position to help us. And who can claim to help us if he's recommending, in his cheesy way so as to try to get out of it later, that we ingest Clorox or Lysol to rid ourselves of the virus?

Some of the Sunday shows are worth it, now that church attendance has been curtailed: "GPS", with Fareed Zakaria on CNN, has excellent commentary, and he has unique guests who give good and thoughtful viewpoints; he tries to keep it balanced, and isn't afraid to take people on. Following that is "Reliable Sources", with Brian Stelter, a smart and incisive view of, especially, the tactics that manipulative media try to twist our minds. Worth your while if you're confused or dismayed about what you've been viewing. Stelter will get your head on straight.

The radio helps with a kind of friendly noise, if you're tuned into the right stations. It reminds you that news continues and humankind keeps trying to make sense of it. Saturdays are the best fun, with the tireless Scott Simon continuing to do Weekend Edition on NPR and Peter Sagal cleverly conducting "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" afterwards (though without the audience, which robs it of its spark a little). For a few hours, it's some undeniably quality stuff.

During the week, friends have lit me up to 101.7 FM in Milwaukee, which is a liberal station with shows like Thom Hartmann and "Democracy Now!" Otherwise, there is plenty of chatter about liberal viewpoints. If you're a Democrat and in Milwaukee (I don't think it has much reach), it's worth keeping on to have a voice in the background.

I have a narrow porch at my apartment, up and away from the street, but I haven't taken advantage of it yet because, except for one day, the weather's been chilly. Being near the big lake hasn't helped. But the sun hits it in mid-afternoon, baking it thoroughly regardless of outside temperature, so there can't be any virus there. I'll be able to view part of the far more vacant world from there soon. I have helped parallel parkers from there, praised nice-looking dogs, and chatted-up people who have looked like they needed it. One thing, perhaps, to look forward to.

I have the mail held until each Friday, so while it doesn't pile up that much, it cuts down on the number of times I have to open the door. It's delivered in a pile, so I scrape it in with a yardstick, wait two days, and dive in. I do the same with the Sunday New York Times, not nearly as much fun to read now that the city, and its news, has been absorbed by the virus. In fact, subscribers have been put on notice that the fun Travel section has been eliminated until further notice, and the sports will be attached to another section. Adjustments, adjustments.

And, of course, I write a little, and I thank you again for reading it. I wonder if I'll run out of things to say. Not yet. Something else is undoubtedly around the bend, and I certainly have time to put it into perspective and context. No hurry here.

But it continues to be a struggle. Better than getting this awful virus, though. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that. Five rules apply: Don't go outside without a mask; stay away from touching your face (much easier said than done); and wash your hands, wash your hands, wash your hands.

One month to go, in Wisconsin. Keep battling until May 26, at least, when they say things will be better. We have one job: Stay alive.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

A Letter to the Tambourine Lounge, Where I Used to Hang

On some Thursday nights before all this happened, I would drive to Sturgeon Bay. Off the main drag is a little place called the Tambourine Lounge, where songwriters, poets and essayists have a chance to display their wares.

Starting last summer and continuing into February, I would appear about every four to five weeks, reading some of the essays contained herein. For the most part, they were received well. I planned to continue, but as you know, something got in the way.

The writers' group that turned me on to this, Write On, Door County, held a writers' retreat last summer and invited the participants to read their work at the Lounge. I have met no one else in that group, so far, who has also tried. Remember, I live in Milwaukee, some two and a half hours away.

Write On, Door County has reached out to its members and asked them to submit reflections upon being cooped up as much as we have so far. Below is my contribution (though I failed to submit it electronically and might miss the chance to get it into 'official' form), limited to 500 words:

Last summer, on a complete whim and because I knew I needed something fresh, I registered for a writer's retreat in Door County. I knew nothing about the culture or the coterie to which I was introducing myself. It was supposed to be a four-day reread, divided into halves. Finding it at the last minute, I went up for the second half.

I deal almost exclusively in non-fiction musings, so I was stretched by the retreat's premise of writing fiction from the pants' seat, with prompts, for 45 minutes at a time. I learned that I could do it at least as well as eight other very good writers. It was a tonic. We encouraged and supported each other. The management seemed genuinely interested another projects of mine.

At the conclusion, I learned that I could read my stuff at the Tambouine Lounge in Sturgeon Bay on most Thursday nights. But I live in Milwaukee. I made the effort to travel shortly after the retreat, though, found it to my liking, and continued to do so on selected Thursdays. Five hours of travel to read for ten minutes sounds pitifully unbalanced, but for the uniqueness, it can't be beaten.

The Tambourine Lounge constitutes a modest retreat for fledgling songwriters, poets, and essayists. Understated, like much of Door County, it is a place to take risks in front of a live audience.

There is a bracing esprit de corps. It is easy to forget, amidst the agony of one's creativity, that most people want you to be good and, at the very least, respect those who put their wares on display. Some of the musicians were very good indeed.

Though I was greeted warmly, the feeling of "outsider" was difficult to shrug off, partly because I was there every four or five weeks. But when I once took a little longer to return, one of the facilitators saw me arrive and said, "Where you been?"

Knowledge that one is missed enlightens and warms. I kept reading to large and modest applause. It is one thing to write; it is quite another to read it. I found myself revamping pieces I thought were "perfect." But sometimes things that were "just right" three weeks ago no longer are. Michener called himself a good re-writer. Anyone who takes it seriously knows what he meant.

I found myself settling in. My moniker, Mark from Milwaukee, stuck. It became my escape, my cubby hole, to which I would lend commentary no one there had heard. I felt a bit like a friendly ghost. It became worth the round-trip.

The invisible monster now prevents me from making my Thursday sojourns. I miss them, miss the gang. I hope that when this malady moves on, they will remain and renew. So I wonder if everybody's well. I just want the regulars to know that Mark from Milwaukee is okay, and he's fighting on, and writing on, to read again.

And I hope, of course, that you are well and fighting on. This is hard, but so, sometimes, is survival. Stay well, be careful, and with some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Yes, He Might. You Know He Might.

It has occurred to me that 45 might start a war before the election. Consider:

• A very recent poll, run by Fox News, indicated that in both Michigan and Pennsylvania, key states that he needs, he trails Biden by eight points;
• Despite what he says to build false hopes, Dr. Fauci says (And who's the better source?) that the coronavirus will be back in fall, just in time for the election; and
• It's entirely possible that a second surge of the virus will be much worse than this one, not unlike the flu of 1918.

That will render 45 helpless to stop criticism of him. He will reap the whirlwind of his neglect of February, which the Democrats will be very eager to exploit. Oh, he'll try to deflect it, saying that the governors were lax. But there's simply been no national leadership, and that will become painfully obvious if we're in for another strong dose. Besides, not all the governors who have gone around him have been Democrat.

What else to do but start a war? Do we have a few candidates? You bet.

Try North Korea, whose leader, Kim Jung Un, is reportedly quite ill. Weakened, it may be vulnerable or at least appear to be so, according to his twisted analysis (Remember, nothing is logical here. It's all by gut, which means quite the opposite.). It wouldn't take long to whip up some pro-war sentiment, especially by those who are presently demonstrating on their state capitol steps because they think making money is a superior priority to staying alive.

Or try Iran, which is presently busy putting gunboats in the Persian Gulf, and one of whose leaders, Suleimani, fell prey to one of our drones in January. It wouldn't take much to create a Gulf of Tonkin scenario in which an "attack" could be alleged.

You could even, without stretching matters much, go at Mexico, because of its refusal to cooperate sufficiently with 45's plans to end immigration (which, you know, he's trying to do right now by halting all immigration for 60 days). Then-Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, says the book Border Wars, went to the Mexicans to try to negotiate a border deal (scuttled by 45 because it would involve us paying them, instead of the other way around, which he has always promised, and about which the right-wing talk show hosts grinded him) and told the Mexican government flat-out: This guy's crazy. He'll do anything. Nobody knows exactly what's going on at the border anyhow, since the media abandoned the crisis scenario there some time ago. I have one question: Did they find all the kids yet?

Even if he doesn't start a war, 45 could certainly gin-up tensions and make them last just long enough to scare just enough people to try to turn the electorate around and give him another four years. This, of course, is outside of any shenanigans he might pull in terms of the process itself, as well as any inadequacy that the Republicans won't fix due to Russian interference--which you can bet they'll try.

The media, which is always at odds with him, have to report the new, building tensions and will be an unwitting cat's-paw, regardless of whether the follow-up analysts realize and understand the underlying subterfuge. We are all going to be very tired of the virus by that time, and anxious for something to distract us.

We'll see if we're just as tired of him. This charade of looking like he knows what he's doing when in fact he's not at all is wearing pretty thin. Any politician worth their salt can say something to the average constituent and get them to believe they're heard something pretty important, until they've walked away for a little bit and then ask themselves: What did (s)he just tell me?

But you can get away with that only for a while, and only with separate individuals. Pretty soon, you'll be outed as a phony. People eventually wise up. Lincoln was right: You can fool some of the people some of the time....etc., etc., etc.

In the meantime, the closer we get to the election, the more it looks as if he may lose key states, the more 45 will edge toward belligerence toward someone. He has to appear to be strong, and stirring up military options is the best way for him to do so, according to him. That he may mess that up, too, is another issue. But anybody who thinks that injecting disinfectant to cure a disease has a mind of incalculable strangeness and a distinct lack of propriety.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Happiness? What Happiness? No, No--Contentment. I See It Coming.

The book Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, which I've just finished, makes fascinating points about how we, as a species, have evolved. Such as:

• Gossip has been essential to the building of a functional society almost from the start, from the point at which humans could communicate with each other, because it was a way of getting news from each other, about each other. You might say that 'fake news,' which is part of what gossip is, is a staple of our existence;
• As much as many of us are interested in social justice, hierarchies are in our midst and always will be, as much because we prefer to rank each other against each other;
• To that end, empires are also a staple of humankind, because some people have always believed that they are superior to another (usually white toward non-white);
• The "free market" never has been free, and people who think of it as potentially free find ways to control markets so that they are free for them but never mind anybody else.

There are plenty of other grains of wisdom contained within; plenty of ways in which the author, Yuval Noah Harari, has distilled the essence of the development of humankind. There's one, though, that caught my eye, one for which the application in these strangely bereft times is particularly apropos.

To wit: We can't stand prosperity. It hasn't made us happy, though by all rights, it should have. It's what we've striven for all this time. And we're living in the land which, with its overflowing (for the most part) resources, we've had the best chance of gaining life, liberty, and the happiness that we've pursued.

Except we don't have it. All that ability to get and create 'stuff' didn't do what it was supposed to do. Otherwise, we'd be the happiest people on earth. Okay, take away the craziness of the virus for a minute: That was still true. 45 wouldn't be president if enough of us had felt happy about living and being here.

"We tend to believe," Harari writes, "that if we could just change our workplace, get married, finish writing that novel, buy a new car or repay the mortgage, we would be on top of the world. Yet when we get what we desire we don't seem to be any happier. Buying cars and writing novels do not change our biochemistry. They can startle it for a fleeting moment, but it is soon back to its set point."

Anger created 45. Anger sustains him. But it's still anger. He has to create anger, sustain it, and cause enough of it to get re-elected. Here's the thing: I don't think he can do it long enough now with enough people. Anger begets scapegoats, and he's running out of them, especially in terms of this epidemic. The lag time between his recognition of the danger and the running amok of this epidemic out of control gets more obvious with time, not less. He looks worse with time, not better. People are burning out on him. 

How many people are gathering at the state capitols now, and protesting? I don't see the steps jammed anywhere, social distancing notwithstanding. Oh, some will always be there. But it feels strained now.

People would rather be content with where they are and what they're doing, than happy. Happiness is a state of euphoria, more of an idealistic notion, and thus can't last even if we strove for it endlessly. I think the virus will cause more contentment instead. People will be thankful to have moved through this awful time and have what they have. There will be less clawing and scratching, at least for a while. There will be a collective sigh, a collective taking stock. It will last beyond the next work cycle.

45's in a hurry to get us beyond this and into prosperity again. He can't see that that will take far longer than he wants, and saying so cannot make it so. Remember, all the legislative wrangling is taking place just to get people to the next week. It can't renew prosperity by itself. That will take confidence. That will take time.

Because we're still losing lots of people to this disease. And 45 has never mentioned that in terms of feeling sorry for their families; not once. People are starting to notice. That must be dealt with in order to move on; it can't be overlooked or easily dismissed.

Contentment, real contentment, takes time. It usually emerges out of disaster or tragedy, when those affected must sit back and reflect. They get up from their seats and do something. It will happen soon enough. November is coming. Having been fooled by a phony promise of happiness with one president, they will be content with another one.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.

Mister Mark

May 26? Why? Why Not?

Tony Evers put May 26 as the new date for staying in place. Is that a good idea?

The question begs analysis. There is no leadership on the coronavirus from the top; 45 seems content to avoid responsibility. He keeps saying that the governors should run the show.

So one has, quietly, as is his wont. Tony Evers is never going to let personality get in the way, never let himself get bigger than the moment. He's a teacher, first and foremost, and if this isn't a teachable moment, I'm not sure what is.

Wisconsin has had its share of coronavirus tragedy, and it continues. The Republicans have guaranteed that it will go longer than necessary, what with their resistance to having the past spring elections delayed. We already know that the virus' reach has extended because of it. They have no shame.

But they outnumber the Democrats at the state capitol because of their cagey gerrymandering. We already know that it doesn't reflect the true feelings of the electorate. In 2018, 54% of the state's voters voted for the Democratic candidates, but only 36% of them populate the seats of the legislature. That power grab was successful. You can judge the effects of the latest one, where they sued, successfully, at the state Supreme Court because again, they had the numbers, if not the logic.

So the first date of let's-see-what's-up-now, April 24, has pretty much been laid to waste. People gathered at the state capitol, as they have at state capitols elsewhere, and protested that their rights to fish, golf, go to church, and spit on each other have been curtailed by their state government's orders.

These are the same people that brought you "keep the government's hands off my Medicare," whatever in the hell that meant: the Tea Party, the purveyor of anger for its own sake, whether it makes any sense or not. Again, it means that people's orientations about their government have been twisted so out of proper definition that it's misinformation, not an attack on their rights, that is their problem.

Actually, it's also the problem of someone like Tony Evers, who's just trying to protect people from, well, themselves and this insidious virus, which will surely kill them if not make them very sick. Again, I respect their rights to get sick: Just don't get anywhere near me. They don't have any right to make me sick.

Other state governors have indicated that they're trying to get their states in a back-to-work phase by the first of the month, while three of them (interestingly, in Southern states with Republican governors) are looking to do it right now. But the affairs of people do not defy science.

We already know the country's not ready to go back to work. People can be forced to risk their health--see above, for the Wisconsin vote--but that extends and deepens the problem. One more time: the virus doesn't care. We don't have a good answer yet. It will spread, and spread indiscriminately.

Some disconnect is at work there. Many of the protestors claim that religiously, they believe in things unseen; it is a cornerstone of their faith. Yet, they cannot bring themselves to believe in actual reality, though it is unseen as well. Without sick people wandering around like zombies, without it to actually see for themselves, they apparently can't approach the devastation that the virus brings unless and until it is brought to their doorstep. They cling to their constitutional rights as if no one has ever trifled with them before, as if the temporary changes will become automatically permanent.

Apparently, then, that's what must happen: They have to get sick themselves. Many are in the more rural areas, so they don't get to see the devastation that often. They don't trust anyone on the other side who, nonetheless, cares about their health a great deal. Will they blame themselves when the virus strikes? We'll have to see. Their leader, or the person who they think is leading them, won't blame himself. If this epiphany takes place, though, he is doomed in November. I'm not holding my breath, though.

Meanwhile, what to do with the new infections caused by irresponsible Republicans? Wait another month. Wait through Memorial Day, though that will disturb cookouts and vacations. Wait until May 26, the day after.

That date isn't the latest. Virginia's governor, a doctor, has his folks in place until June 10. Michigan's governor, Gretchen Whitmer, is tougher than Evers about not letting some businesses operate. But they've lost far more people. Their numbers justify her actions.

People are getting antsy. I know I am. When my self-quarantining ended yesterday, the first thing I did after going to the store was take a long walk. It was a nice day: Lots of people out along Lincoln Memorial Drive in Milwaukee, and in Lake Park, two places I normally go.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, who was not my age wore a mask, and I walked more than two miles. (Though social distancing seems to have taken hold for the most part.) Generational issues here: Tough to recall, but so many of us thought once that we were indestructible, too. Looking at the faces of those who are assaulting the state capitols, there aren't too many of them who are ready to retire, or who have already done so.

That kind of defiance was once bracing: Tom Brady was caught working out in a Tampa Bay park yesterday, and was told to run along. Now, it looks stupid. Yes, I think May 26 isn't overreach, given what's already happened. Whether the Wisconsin general public thinks so is another matter. Businesses will most likely decide. But they must consider what losing their people will mean to their bottom line.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

13 Days--I Got Through; I'm Still Here

13 days ago, I went to the dentist. Got some work done. Couldn't avoid it. The dentist said he was glad I'd come in. I said I hoped so.

I wrote, here, that the odds were on my side but I couldn't be sure that I wouldn't get the virus, though. Turns out I was right: The dentist and his assistant wore masks, and I'm okay.

But I also self-quarantined for 14 days, just in case. I have one day left. No reason to hurry; there's nothing outside, except better weather, to run out into.

I had some moments that I misinterpreted. I thought maybe I had a runny nose. That, apparently, is how it starts. It was then that I got really, really scared; I have pre-existing conditions. But the lack of humidity in my apartment lent itself to that conclusion.

More to the point, I can take deep breaths. But the anxiety is also deep. I'm losing sleep, as are many others, from what I've read. But with few exceptions, I stayed inside. I picked up two prescriptions on the way back from the dentist 13 days ago. I picked up a pizza last Saturday, scraped in the mail on two Fridays with a yardstick--I'm getting it held and it's delivered to my door; you can, too, just put USPS Hold Mail in your browser and follow the prompts--and went into the lobby to get my Sunday New York Times and pick up the mail I forgot to hold on two Saturdays.

I washed my hands afterwards, too. Otherwise, I went absolutely nowhere. I'm safe.

Probably good, in a way, that I observed the self-quarantine. Now I can go back outside with proper respect, as if I didn't have it in the first place. No, I'm not going to the state capitol and jump up and down, next to silly compatriots, screaming my head off, demanding that my life be replaced with guarantees that no one can give at this moment.

Clarification is a necessary thing nowadays. There's a great article in today's New York Times discussing the kinds of questions people would normally ask about giving themselves the virus. It'll help you feel better and a bit more secure. But social distancing and masks and gloves should still be observed. The article's not a permission slip to return to normal.

I'm in Milwaukee, and the standing in line during the election has had its predictable results; the curve is going back up from a point at which the virus was beginning to disappear to the point at which it's beginning to spread again. Thanks, Republican Party. There is no chance in hell that I'll ever vote for any of you again, if I get through this alive. You're idiots. You're dangerous. You have your priorities screwed up. What does the Constitution matter if you're dead?

But I'm out of food and I need to go to the store. I looked at getting deliveries, but I can't have what I want that way. Whole Foods is allowing seniors to shop from 7-8 a.m. daily so they can be sure to have the best chance to do so without getting sick. I'll probably take advantage of that, driving there instead of walking, which I normally did because it's less than 15 minutes away. The original Sendik's is a block and a half away, too, and I've shopped there with the appropriate protections. So far, so good. Plus they have great turnovers. I have rationed them to one per morning.

Oh, and--I have lost weight, even though I haven't been outside yet. No question. Stringing out meals has done me well. I've gained a new appreciation for blueberries (they keep much better than bananas), peanuts, and salmon. It's the kind of stuff I ate anyhow, but when there's nothing else....

I wonder, now, how long my hand cleanser will last, how long my soap will last, how long my gloves will last. They will need replenishment. Can I get it? I've looked, and shelves are presently empty. When can that worry be diminished?

My life has been hermitish for a while, but by choice, not by force of virus. Staying inside for days at at time has been difficult by oneself. I established something of a routine, but it doesn't eat up every waking minute. There are still those empty places where one just sits and thinks. They can be nervous. Just keep breathing, I say to myself. As long as you can do that, you're okay. A friend in Iowa put it out on Facebook: You sit and wait for the virus to take hold, not knowing when or if. How do you get your mind off of that?

I thought of something: Tell people you value that you might not make it. After all, it might be someone else's mistake, not yours, that puts you in that position. Get them ready to say good-bye just in case. Again, I have a pre-existing condition: Triple by-pass surgery less than two years ago. I'm doing all right with it--I was a good boy during rehab--but I have to face it: My heart isn't what it used to be. This virus might easily kill me. It would be a horrible death: All alone, gradually being strangled by my body, which ironically would be trying to fight the virus.

So I've texted and e-mailed and will call people, telling them things I wouldn't otherwise, just in case. I've written up a will and will send it to my brother, who I've appointed my legal representative. I don't know if it'll hold up, but it's in writing and it's from me.

To wit: Thank you for reading this. The numbers aren't large, but I know I have a devoted readership. You have inspired me. The Pulitzer committee won't be by soon, but I do pay attention to what I say here, so it makes some kind of sense.

Am I ready to die? Of course not; who wants to do that? But things can be prepared. If the virus takes hold, I might go very fast. Tough to say. There are so many variables. There might not be time for closure.

In the meantime, I will inch forward. I will be careful. I will play it smart. The world will stay small, just slightly larger than before. I will go shopping, but stay in as long as I can otherwise. I will stay away from people if I possibly can, reinforcing loneliness but keeping the big picture in mind. If I can get to May 26, when our governor says the Safe At Home restrictions will be lifted, maybe it really will be safer. I don't blame him for extending them. I will keep writing here, and start walking outside again, now that I've done some exercises to help me do so (that was another issue).

And maybe I'll get through this. I hope you do, too. At least we have another 13 days behind us.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Letter to the Protestors

I'm writing to the protesters. You know, the ones that want to be sure their rights are being respected.

Nobody's taking anything away from you. Governors of your states have directed you to stay home.
They haven't assigned you ball-and-chains. You can ignore them all you want.

Thing is, the virus isn't going to ignore you, either. It's all around us. And you're going to get sick. Some of you don't even know you have it, or are ripe to spread it.

Do what you want. Just don't make me sick on the way. I'm not in a good place. If I get sick, I could be gone in just a few days. Let that be up to me. I have just as much right to protect myself as you have to, in a strange expression of your rights, put yourself at risk.

We all know you have the right to assemble. So assemble. Go ahead. Make fools of yourselves. You're doing a great job of it. You have an example in the White House who's just as crazy, if not more crazy, than you are. And he's making a terrific fool of himself. Follow the pied piper. Help yourself.

I'm not sure who you're listening to. It might be Fox News. They have plenty of nonsense, plenty of diversions, plenty of alternative facts.

I'm noticing that, at least in the pictures that have been released, a single kind of person is emerging within your midst: Middle-aged and male, carrying flags of protest, some with Confederate flags, some with rebellious beards. Yes, if you were wondering, you are terrifying.

But not so much so that you can't be ignored. Ridiculed. Mocked. Which plenty of people are doing.

But no, your libertarian blood is boiling. Don't Tread On Me flags proliferate. This isn't taxation without representation, though. This is an emergency.

You could go to church, too, as some of you are doing. Same result: You're going to get sick. You can rationalize it all you want, but God won't stop this, either.

It probably feels good to get out and see each other again, the way it's going to feel when the rest of us manage to see the people we care about now. Again, I don't begrudge you that. Just stay to yourselves.

But you have to push the edge of the envelope, don't you? Wisconsin Republicans (I assume you're Republican, if you're anything remotely resembling the mainstream, Nazi flags notwithstanding) are suing the Democratic governor for extending the Safe At Home guidelines to May 26, the day after Memorial Day, even after relaxing some of the stricter requirements. Why, you can even play golf now, but you can't go to the bathroom in the clubhouse because it won't be open.

I'm quite sure they'll cloak their concerns in terms of the economy, for which they think all should be sacrificed (Including schoolchildren, says Dr. Oz, apparently an authority on such things; 2-3% is apparently acceptable collateral damage for re-opening the schools. Just tell me how to diet, Doc. That's what you're good at.) Thing is, if there's nobody out there to buy things because they're sick or dead or scared to be either, what good will it do to try extraordinary measures like ordering the governor to stand down? Would someone please answer that question? Is it just going to make them feel better, even if actually feeling better is out of their control?

Why do Republicans do so much to deny leadership? Is it because they don't know how to do it? Or because someone else is doing it?

They've already tried to keep people from voting by standing in the way of doing it by mail or delaying it so the virus passes. It didn't work; they got buried in the race they needed to win. Is it just that they want to gum up the works because they feel helpless otherwise? Wouldn't telling people to stay the hell home be wiser?

So as a result, virus infections in Green Bay and Milwaukee, where people had to stand in line in much greater numbers because they understandably couldn't get as many volunteers, are now up. Congratulations: There, you've succeeded. The Speaker of the Assembly, a Republican, got himself dressed up in protective clothing and declared everything safe to vote. People wore masks and gloves. It didn't matter. And don't tell me the stats are wrong. You're either lying or denying reality, the difference of which is negligible.

I know you're anxious to get rolling again. So am I. But without a vaccine and/or sufficient testing, the virus controls. Nothing you can do or say gets in the way of that: No protest, no lawsuit. Nothing. It's science, which you apparently don't believe in. But science wins. It always does.

A compatriot of mine on the NEA Executive Committee had a magnet in her office that said, "You Can't Fix Stupid." I keep coming back to that. I know I'm writing this in vain. But sometimes you just have to do it to let people know that there's someone else who's trying to keep his head on straight. While I live, which is something you're trying hard to take from me.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Ahem. I Suggested It. It Happened. Governors United!

I knew of a dentist in Wisconsin (now deceased) who, along with two other dentists in the same community, wound up combining resources and basically creating a dental consortium. They were tired of competing against each other, had carved out a fairly consistent clientele anyhow, and decided that they'd be better off sharing things, and people, so that the whole community got better dental care. The money became secondary, because at any one moment, about the same number of people need dental care.

That thinking is why, on March 30, I wrote a blog suggesting that governors create consortiums to above all, buy materials. The effect would be to simply go past 45's creative dithering and delay.

Guess what? Since then, three consortiums have been created: A Pacific (WA, OR, CA), a Northeast (RI, CT, NY, PA, DE) and now a Midwestern (MN, WI, IL, MI, OH, IN, KY). The last one is even bipartisan, as I also had suggested.

Gol-ly. Collectivist thinking? Note that it didn't automatically happen. But it happened. When leaders know that everybody's hurting, they (well, most of them) take responsibility and provide as best they can.

You're welcome. And without a consultant's fee, either. They got off cheap.

See? They're not dumb. They're not opposed to combining resources when it's in their state's interests. And they know, now, that 45's not going to help them. He's just going to stand there and cheerlead.

We don't need that. We need help. The coronavirus is a fierce opponent, and 24/7/365. We need the real deal.

We don't need an endlessly egotistical, self-aggrandizing, press-hating idiot to stand up there for sometimes two hours a day saying, in effect, nothing that will help. He has a three-part plan for getting back to normal, all right, but normal is a long, long way off.

Besides, he has made a complete ass of himself by claiming "complete authority" over the states in this regard. First of all: It's unconstitutional. The federal system is defined by the Tenth Amendment, which allows states to do what they want as long as the Constitution doesn't prohibit it. Republicans normally stand by it, but they left that, too, behind them with their blind allegiance to 45. Nothing else matters, certainly no principles.

The states don't have to follow the dictates of the federal government when the Constitution does not comment upon it. Yes, the feds have floated us $1200, at most, for the time being, but the feds have the money-making power, and the chief of the Federal Reserve System has already promised us that he'll provide whatever paper money is necessary to get us through this debacle. 45 has put his name on the checks in another attempt at disingenuousness, since that money is actually ours, and provided by Congress. Yes, he had to sign the bill, but failure to do so would have been beyond stupid. And the governors were helpless in that regard since money is a federal issue.

But, really, that's all the federal government has done (though it might do it again). It has not provided leadership, with a golden opportunity to do so. 45 had, and still has, the Defense Production Act with which to force corporations to make supplies to help people ward off the virus, but has refused to do so, believing (I have to think; nothing else makes sense) that it's better that they act voluntarily.

He's got it backwards. Corporations, which have no impact upon governance, should be forced to make medical gear for the general public so we can climb out of this mess. Governors are wild-card actors who can do what they wish and can't be forced to do anything. 45 thinks just the other way around, due to his belief that if he says something, enough people will believe that it's automatically true and trustworthy. He obviously includes governors in that list.

He still doesn't get it. Governors now know that he's not to be trusted. They're tired of waiting. He's now lost that sense of solidarity, when getting it might have put a whole different stamp upon his presidency. I have no doubt, too, that someone has suggested that, but in another temper tantrum, another bend to his "gut," he's refusing to listen.

That's why he has to blame the World Health Organization, and China, and anybody else who happens to be in the way. That, and the claim (note, from way long ago now) that he "takes no responsibility" for what's happened.

He still doesn't get it. That 5-7% of people who crossed over and voted for him in 2016 are watching very carefully. I think he has to win them back. I don't think it's working for him very well right now.

November is still a ways off. But we may crawl out of this just in time for a full supply of voters to throw him out and get a decent individual, who at least knows that governance is about, to be president. We may just settle for that.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

We Need A "Commonwealth" In Its Essence: We Have Drifted Away, and Look at The Result

The term "commonwealth" is not one often used to promote good governance. It's a token phrase best applied to states that claim it, such as Massachusetts, Pennsylvania and Virginia.

But if you notice, those are three of the most important of our original 13 colonies: Massachusetts, the starting point of our revolution; Pennsylvania, where our declaration of independence was signed and our first capital established; and Virginia, home of George Washington and four of our first five presidents.

So the phrase must mean more than it looks. I looked it up in the Oxford Dictionary, unabridged: "The body politic, in which everyone has an interest." Just a few more states refer to themselves as a "commonwealth," (I believe one of which is Kentucky) so it has to be more than just a substitute or synonym for "government." It has to be an attitude.

In The Free Society in Crisis: A History of Our Times, David Selbourne tries to get at that, meaning that it is now largely missing from our affairs and should be rethought. Selbourne is a British writer and refers a great deal to Great Britain in his references, but he splits the time very nicely with the United States, an obvious reference to what it once was: a moral leader of the world. He says we don't even know what that means anymore.

The book rambles unfocused, as he reaches for examples of people worried only whether they can afford something rather than dealing with the meaning of the act they wish to pay for: surrogate parenthood is a familiar refrain. But he comes up with so many examples along the fringes, you start to see what he means; if people can get away with all that and keep doing so, the meaning of what they do becomes more and more ephemeral. It sounds a bit like 45; just because he can, doesn't mean he should. Some control of power and justification of it is necessary.

But the idea of so much free choice isn't a new one. If the guardrails surrounding ethics disappear with enough dollars to take them down, what does any act mean? We float aimlessly and allow certain forces to intervene, to interfere with us, without focusing on what we're supposed to. If everything is "okay," what standards do we have left? And what does that mean?

So local governments are fond of saying that crime has gone down, except it hasn't. They wear the cloak of educational success without noticing that holes have worn through them. They say that they're a "Christian" nation, but Muslims are slowly ignoring freedom of religion and we are allowing them to walk over the political culture (Especially true in the U.K., but Christian fundamentalism is its own problem here.).

He wanders close to rigidity. He asks why schoolchildren can't do the daily pledge of allegiance, as a reminder of their civic responsibility. At least then, he says, they'll know that they have a country and that will help to bind them to the political culture. Indeed, Wisconsin has dictated for some time now that that exact act be repeated daily. As I pledge allegiance to the wall, sang Paul Simon in the song My Little Town: Children don't really know what they're doing, and teachers won't repeat its significance to them daily. Wouldn't it be better, though, to teach the act with a reminder here and there? Wouldn't it be better to begin public events with the pledge (which is often done, before sporting events, but I mean besides them), showing the kids that such an act of loyalty is appropriate by having the adults do it in front of them?

Would that alone establish a "commonwealth" over the body politic? No. But it might, momentarily, give us reason to understand that we're all in this thing together, and make it easier to step away from ourselves every so often and help someone who needed it instead of wondering whether our cars and other things are all that impressive.

Better, I think (and Selbourne doesn't mention it, which is amazing to me), that we adults get out to the polls a bit more and make that a statement about how we feel about the democracy in which we live, as a living legacy to the next generation, instead of relying on a pledge of allegiance that has little impact. The percentages by which we vote should be an endless national embarrassment. If we get 65 percent voting in November, that will be considered a particularly attentive electorate.

I wonder what Selbourne thinks about our present predicament. He did not evaluate 45 per se, but his comments about him (the book was published last year) indicate that he knows what he's up to. Maybe it triggered the book itself: Here we are, the country with the biggest chance to influence the rest of the world, and not only are we blowing the chance, we seem to be working at cross purposes. People are dying daily of this virus, and all the president really wants us to do is leave him alone and let him bark so he can be re-elected. He has the World Health Organization to scapegoat, though badly, so he cuts off the funding to it when it's most needed.

That is not a "commonwealth" kind of thinking. We need to consider ourselves part of humanity's whole, because this awful disease is going everywhere (it just hasn't gotten to certain places yet). The right and ability to make money, by itself, certainly won't do it, for that puts people back into their corners. "Without the practical renewal of the politics and ethics of the civic commonwealth," says Selbourne, "resting upon a social contract of reciprocal rights and duties, supported by sanction and upheld by a political class that can hear the bell tolling, our 'rending in pieces,' in Madison's words, will continue to its bitter end."

Indeed, the lack of it brought on 45 and his nihilism. He has no Constitution to guide him unless someone reminds him of it; he gets away with whatever he can because he thinks he can. Impeachment was only the largest example. He, and we because of him, now drift along without meaning. He thinks he can do that during this crisis. If he can and if he wins, it will be the end of our meaning in the world.

Maybe, in a perverse way, it is helpful and necessary for us to undergo social distancing, to allow us to think about whether we really want to become a "commonwealth" or whether we just feel like going back to the thinking that once was. The latter will now be difficult to do. We have yet to undergo real economic hardship; that's just around the corner. The last one helped mold what we now call The Greatest Generation, which managed to get through it and create the greatest economy and the nation the world has seen. But it took a world war to do so, remember; fascism ran rampant until we showed up. Now we are on the verge of letting fascism overrun us.

We will get closer to that moment as we go. It will be the true test of our democracy; will we lean in the direction of being a "commonwealth," with liberty and law roughly balanced, or will we submit to our troubles and allow ourselves to be smothered by meaningless forces out for only themselves?

That time is coming. Buckle up.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

A Corner Turned?

Is it possible that a corner has been turned in Wisconsin, if not nationally?

Last night's results would indicate that something like that has happened. Not by itself, mind you, but in concert with what's already happened.

In 2018, Democrats made few gains in the state legislature, due to the draconian gerrymandering of the Republicans. But in the aggregate, the numbers were clear: 54% voted Democratic.

Now look at the state Supreme Court race. Daniel Kelly, a Walker appointee, was crushed by Jill Karofsky, a far more centrist candidate, by more than eight points. Again, 54% for the non-conservative.

No one election proves anything. But two, consecutively, foreshadows a trend, some cataclysmic turnabout notwithstanding. Eight points is a lot to make up.

That would seem to indicate that, seven months hence, 45's in trouble in Wisconsin. The worst efforts of the Republicans to suppress the vote, making people go out into a disease-addled atmosphere, simply didn't work.

They'll have to try something else. Scare tactics will have to do, whatever fear Joe Biden might strike into people's hearts. But of course, they can make stuff up. It worked ("swift boat") with John Kerry. It worked ("Benghazi", "e-mails") with Hillary Clinton.

And, of course, they have Hunter Biden, whatever skullduggery they can conjure from his membership on a board of directors, relating to 45's impeachment, which they will use to delegitimize it. You can see the strategy from here. Our "distinguished" Senator, Ron Johnson (slippery little devil), has already been at work on this stuff, and we haven't heard from Rudy Giuliani in a while. Expect those two names to re-emerge quickly.

It had better be good and superbly slimy. States like North Carolina, Florida, and Arizona are now very much in play for the Democrats. This morning, Axios said that Biden leads 45 in polling in those states right now, as well as Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania, three states that 45 pulled the rug out from under Clinton in 2016.

The strategy about 'opening up' the country as soon as possible is also transparent. It will give 45 the impetus to go out and do what he loves--smear people while campaigning. He can't justify it otherwise.

Don't think it's about opening up businesses. It isn't. The major part of his campaign money isn't coming from small business. It's coming from big business--which, by the time we are beyond all this, will be dented but not badly damaged.

That's why 45 has to come out and show some nonsense propaganda film about how the media, not he, worked to suppress thoughts of intercepting the coronavirus back in January, then insult any reporter who steps up to challenge him on it. He has to create new factology to justify the fibs he tells. No real journalist can get in the way of that.

But people are wising up. There aren't nearly the numbers of media people at his grinding, daily press conferences now, and they aren't sheepishly cringing in the corners. They're getting tired of his lies. The battle has been waged for the truth, and the truth is hanging in there.

Here's the truth: He's a terrible president who cares not one whit about anyone but himself. He uses common methods to distract people from the actual facts and is running out of strategies, because he's confronted by the one truth he can't do anything about: Science. And he's trying to distract from the simple fact that an earlier start against the virus might have put him in the spot he wants to be in today: To open up the country again May 1. But from the eyes of those who know, that looks to be foolish if not counterproductive. People will start dying in large numbers again--just as the campaign's supposed to be ramping up.

Every day he tries his charade now, the worse he looks to anyone who cares to evaluate. Wisconsin is showing that there are still enough people out there who are doing so. If they and others stay steady, he won't just lose: He'll be buried. But we'll see. Seven months is a long time.

But hope is there. The country might be saved.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Things I Am Noticing Because I Can Sit Back and Think About Them

Things I am noticing because I can sit back and think about them, framed by the events of the passing time:

• If you pray, pray for the truckers that they don't get sick, or that they get replaced fast. Food arrives at our stores because of them. No truckers, and the food fights become something other than a lark at school.
• Pray, too, for the farmers. Next season is coming.
• That being said, gaining weight isn't likely.
• Upon my rare visits to the store, one of the Things That People Really Don't Need is bottled water. They're willing to forego the assurance that the water they're using for cooking and drinking is absolutely clean, clean beyond anyone's question. When pushed, they really do trust government--or, when pushed, they know they have to.
• Professional athletes are losing one of their most treasured aspects: Time. You're only young once. Baseball season should have already started. The professional basketball playoffs are supposed to be starting soon. The Masters golf tournament should have been played last weekend (though re-scheduled for November; we shall see). Not only does this virus rob us of watching them, it robs them of the one thing they can't have back: Time, and the experience that comes of it. We can always watch the next thing, the next superstar, that comes along. They can't have their careers back. The peak time of their careers is now. Never mind their immense salaries; at some point, they, too, will run out of money--though much later than we will, since the owners have very, very deep pockets. Pro golfers, whose earnings are not guaranteed, at the top of the scale probably have money saved up; those on the satellite tours don't. They will have to go back to selling insurance, if they can sell any; I would think that might be important now--and they, too, will miss this time to try to work their way up the ladder. 
• You're not hearing much about the lack of sports, which are being missed for sure, but if the NFL delays its opening, look out. Plus that's getting close to the election. That's why 45 has already mentioned filling up stadiums: He has a nose for anticipation because he just sits and thinks all day--and will blame the NFL for any delay. Watch for it.
• People are being told to stock up for two weeks. This prevents hoarding. I have news: Ain't gonna work. As we go on, people know--they know--that they may have exactly one shot at more cleaning fluids, gloves, and masks. Stores will say One Each (package, item, whatever), but people will find a way around that, especially if they have kids who are old enough and functional, or friends that already have what they need. That's a genuine need, a survival need, and we still have no idea when we won't need them. That's a cruel fact fomented by an incompetent, intentionally irresponsible federal government.
• I have read that the ground itself can maintain the virus, because the droplets that people expunge upon coughing and sneezing cling to it and, apparently, don't die upon contact. That means when you go out, take your shoes off when you return and don't walk around with them for, what, two days? This fucking thing isn't fair.
• I saw an interview with "60 Minutes" last night, and a physician said that the virus travels through the ICU section in waves. It travels. Does it travel just because so many people have it in the same place? If it does that inside a hospital, does it also do that outside the hospital? If it's windy, does it move faster, or diminish faster? Is that why we're supposed to stay inside? That must be why masks are so important. I thought the only reason we can get it is from another person. Is that why they say it's carried through breath? Should we then shower each and every time we step outside, even momentarily to get the paper or carry out the garbage, after taking off our clothes and washing them (thus necessitating more laundry detergent)? Who's zoomin' who, here? Would someone please tell me what the fuck is going on??
• People are annoyed, to be sure, but not desperate. Let us hope that desperation does not descend upon us. We already know--and you should know if you've been looking--that Americans are not especially better than anyone else, that in fact they've been allowed to be plenty selfish and obsessed with things rather than Things That Money Can't Buy. That fact will be driven home if the things we really need become short. That's when the test will take place. Because so many of us really have sheltered in place, the sprint to the store has thinned out. So much the better. Sharing, for now, is something that the thoughtful have extended, but they, too, are not without what they need. If the supply chain lasts another month, we'll still be okay. But that's if. See above, about the truckers.
• We need to get tested. Everyone. But that feels as far away as Saturn. That it still feels that way is a colossal failure of the federal government. It cannot explain that away much longer.

That's it for now. More later. Be well, be careful, and with some luck, I'll see you down the road.

Mister Mark

The Whole Brand's Gone Mad

It's not just that the Wisconsin Republicans went out of their way to make people vote Tuesday. That was bad enough.

It's not just that they made people vote during a pandemic. It's not just that House Speaker Robin Vos tried to make it look like things would be okay by dressing up in protective gear that nobody else had. It's not just that fanciful, magical thinking.

It's that not a single Republican (at least, that I know of) stood up and said, Wait a minute. This is crazy. People's very lives are at stake and we're going to say that's okay? Even Republicans have to vote. Even they will be at risk. Can't this wait a little bit?

Not a single Republican, anywhere, said anything like that. Not a single Republican stood up for comment sense and good health. In fact, House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy thinks Democrats should be ashamed of themselves for believing that Republicans forced everyone to vote on time just to suppress the vote itself.

45 even said so the other day: That Republicans wouldn't win an election if everyone voted. He's probably being exaggerative there, too, but not by much.

And true to form, he's making up stuff about absentee ballots--mainly, that voting that way is ridiculous since all kinds of cheating take place. Never mind that he voted absentee in Florida in the 2018 elections.

They are utterly ruthless. No hypocrisy bothers them. They will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Do people understand now? Do they understand that Republicans--all of them--will stop at absolutely nothing to give themselves the best possible chances at winning?

That the state supreme court ruled to assist the Republicans was pretty much a foregone conclusion. After all, you can't expect the majority of the court, which seeks to sustain itself, to give the other side maximum chances to reduce that majority. What do you think they are, considerate of others? How stupid.

The number of volunteers, especially in Milwaukee and Green Bay, fell precipitously, as one might expect. The number of polling places in Milwaukee fell by more than 95 percent, from 180 to 5. People were waiting in line at 8 p.m., when the polling places closed. Sometimes they waited for two hours, six feet apart, to vote.

Can we please remember this in November, when a losing 45 will pull out all the stops to call the election bogus or unfair or illegal? Because that's what he'll do. No doubt.

And when he does it, the Republican-led Supreme Court, the one which forced Wisconsin citizens to vote on Tuesday and count the ballots that had come in then and no later, will be searching for a way to keep 45 in power. Its majority opinion, ridiculously contrived by none other than Brett Kavanaugh, fooled no one: "This court has repeatedly emphasized that lower federal courts should ordinarily not alter the election rules on the eve of an election."

Ordinarily. What the hell is "ordinary" about this circumstance? The ruling is a knee-jerk, thoughtless disregard for Americans who simply want to vote without fear of dying. Now, not only did they have to go through that, but undoubtedly my state will see a spike in coronavirus cases because of it. To pretend that, regardless of efforts, the incidence of coronavirus won't spread because of the forced gathering of people is absurd.

But then, the last two Supreme Court justices were selected by 45 and a knee-jerk, Republican Senate, so that solidified a 5-4 decision. Not even John Roberts, he who saved Obamacare by calling it a tax, could see his way through to make an exception this time.

History will not judge that decision well. It will rank right up there with Dred Scott and Bush v. Gore. Meanwhile, we will have to live--and die--with the results. Republicans are simply ruthless. They will stop at nothing. Come November, it will be good to know.

Be well. Be careful. With luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

Sports? Of Course. But Not Automatically.

45 is after the sports moguls. He wants games, damn it.

Remember: Once again, this is all about him. Him, not anyone else. He's bored. Yes, so are we. But we don't matter.

He does. First, foremost and only. That's why he wants the stadiums filled up: That guarantees that there will be games. He really doesn't like his job, you know. He has to deal with difficult questions because he's so bad at it, so he needs an outlet that he can watch.

And neither does he know how to be a president. It's about making decisions, and owning up to them, first and foremost. Anyone knows how to do that; it's a matter of wanting to. And he doesn't want to. He'd rather watch games, rather than sneak in watching them while doing the rest of his job. Big difference.

He'd also rather play golf, and he probably will do so sooner rather than later. It's the one sport that others are playing, playing because they have lots of money. The public courses aren't open. They can't sustain themselves. On top of the disease, the middle class has to watch while the rich play.

If sports returns, it may be an indicator that the economy has recovered. But urging the sports to ramp up again won't do it. Running games with few people watching won't gain favor for any spectator sports management. Having the games, by themselves, won't bring the economy back, especially at the ticket prices that are being charged nowadays.

Above all, the athletes have to be re-trained. You can throw a basketball out on any court and expect a pick-up game, but when that much money's on the line, no coach will willingly do that and no game will reach the quality it once had. So the NBA can't just magically return. Either.

45 thinks so because of the way games took over our culture gradually but definitely.  They have achieved a level of importance way out of line with what they were originally meant to be: Either a way to improve one's physical condition, or to serve as a distraction from our humdrum lives.

"Distraction" means temporary, but the concentration of thinking about our games has become an obsession--so much so that gambling is now permitted in every state. All that money, now, just sitting there. Must be driving the bettors crazy.

It's another non-essential pastime. And I wonder how it will return when we're done with this terrible time.

That's right: non-essential. In a way. But in another way, every bit as essential as breathing.

The American male thrives on sports. He lives on them. They connect time for him, especially the football season, whether college or pro. There are too many games in other sports, like baseball or basketball; too much to focus on any one game, except in the playoffs, and even then in the finals.

I write this having played four sports in high school, three in one year of college, and two in the rest. I wasn't great in any of them, merely competent with occasional flashes of brilliance. So I know of the grip that sports can have. (Why did I do it? Because something inside of me had to stay busy. And it was fun.)

But playing Division III college sports without a scholarship to do so adjusted my thinking about it, steering it in the more idealistic mode of sharpening mind and body together. When taken in this way, the whole endeavor becomes wholistic and not an end unto itself. And certainly not important as a way to create income.

Maybe, had I been better (and I just missed a Division I scholarship to play football at Northwestern), my thinking would have been different. But the ivory tower of the small, well-to-do liberal arts atmosphere impressed itself on me. I understand the obsession with big-time college sports because I came close enough to it, but what it means in the totality of the world has been greatly overemphasized and twisted out of reasonable analysis. The machine of big-time sports operates on its own now, almost without the need to figure itself out. Too much money involved, anyhow.

Friday Night Lights, by Buzz Bissinger, about the obsession with Texas high school football, was written some 25 years ago now. Sadly, it was one of the last efforts to take a good look at something which seemed out of control. What did the followers do? Did they step back and ramp down? Hardly. They doubled down instead. The myth of manhood rides with football in the Texas oil country, as it does elsewhere.

Which returns us to 45, who needs to watch his sports. I wonder if he's ever asked himself why. In fact, I wonder whether he's ever asked himself why he does anything. It doesn't matter. He wants what he wants, and as president, he can stick his nose into anything he feels like.

He'll get his sports, but when sports are good and ready to re-deliver quality. That is going to be a long slog, like waiting out good health opportunities will be for the rest of us.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

If Not For The Democrats....and the Deep State

Upon reading Border Wars: Inside [45's] Assault on Immigration, by New York Times reporters Julie Hirschfeld David and Michael D. Shear, one comes away with one strong thought: If not for the Democrats, all would be chaos and domination by fools.

The book has a remarkable amount of inside information. It details meetings inside the White House and Oval Office as if we were all there. On the other hand, we already know that plenty of people have wanted to be sure that everyone knew just what we were dealing with, so often without attribution, they're happy to do so.

45, at times, is the least of it. The real rogue is Stephen Miller, obsessed as he is with taking away every opportunity for Hispanic immigrants to come into the United States. He is omnipresent, insidious, and manipulative. His personality, domineering and boisterous, takes care of the rest: everyone knows he has the president's ear. He creates policy groups where there are none to get where he wants to go: On a path for gradually preventing anyone from coming into the Southern border. He creates false statistics and waves them at people to fall into line with his boss, who doesn't know what he's saying outside of his own gut, which will steer him wrong almost everywhere.

But even then, he cannot be everywhere, and he cannot control everything. The country is too large and it has preceded him. The laws that shackle 45's wishes are there, and some people are actually trying to follow them, albeit far more strictly than before.

Kirstjen Nielsen, Secretary of Homeland Security, is one. She comes off as no wallflower, yet she, too, is helpless in the wake of 45's temper tantrums. Why can't you just close the border? 45 asks. She knows she can't, and knows as well that the draconian policies 45 wants can't just happen by themselves--they'll be sued immediately and probably lose. Congress has to act, she keeps saying. It doesn't matter. He won't listen.

All the nonsense that 45 has said and done are well-documented here, and the book serves as a nice reminder of how close he has come to shutting down the border. Indeed, it's that fear that Nielsen and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo drive home to the Mexican government to get it to agree to try harder to detain immigrants and asylum-seekers (one case of which Davis and Shear expose brilliantly) to slow down the surges, in exchange for a bushel of money. That hardly matters; they keep coming. Besides, once that deal comes out, the right-wingers that have 45's ear pound away at him: We thought Mexico was supposed to pay for this. Now we have? It's a great plan, one of the best pieces of negotiation in the entire book, one that could make 45 look like a really strong president and get some genuine policy accomplished. But he refuses it.

Even some fellow Republicans won't budge. Mitch McConnell, otherwise one of the notorious, won't do the otherwise suicidal "nuclear" pledge to end the 60-vote requirement to get legislation passed through the Senate. Indeed, he has to wait for the right moments to get things done, before "the beast" is awakened, as one Republican staffer says, and 45, certainly not savvy in any legislative sense, learns that Mitch has pulled a fast one on him.

The fire-branders say they want something, but the leadership really doesn't. While Paul Ryan is Speaker, he wants better limitations on immigration, sure, but nothing so terrible as what 45 wants. So he tries to put him off, saying that the much-vaunted wall will have to wait for a better time. But Ryan, too, is compromised by the House Freedom Caucus, and we have seen what trouble they have made for everyone.

The picture that emerges is one of chaos. Who enters to try to set things straight? Why, Jared Kushner, of course. He comes off as the knight errant, saying himself that he isn't tied to previous legislative commitments and workings. But Republican insiders have no respect for him: He, Vice-President Mike Pence, and future Chief of Staff Mick Mulvaney are referred to sardonically as the "Three Wise Men."

Enter Nancy Pelosi with new power, due to mid-term elections of 2018. 45 tries, and badly, to compromise her, but as usual, he has no idea who he's dealing with. We already know her efforts to turn the tables and destroy him didn't work--and won't, as long as the Republican Party has the numbers. But in the meantime, she will insist that people matter.

Very little is said about the shutdown of early 2019, which is kind of a disappointment. But 45's wall is the centerpiece of this thinking--and will be, once the coronavirus pandemic has passed, in my view; it's all he has to throw back at the American people. While we were getting ourselves through this, he will say, in a classic of attention diversion, the wall is being built. That will be another of his long list of lies. Count on it, though.

Throughout, Davis and Shear make sure to be factual and meticulously chronological, giving the reader a path through which screw-up after screw-up are derived. That we have forgotten all about the kids--the kids--who were taken from their parents and put in foster homes is a tribute to first, time passing and other priorities taking place; and second, the sheer size of the country and the ability of bureaucracy to hide its mistakes. Journalism must respond and return to that story.

Border Wars is, in the final analysis, a tribute to the two-party system, and its ability, even with this monster in charge, to attain a rough balance between interests. It's the reason why today, especially, Democrats must come out, risk their health, and vote out Republicans who, in the meanest sense, hold them hostage. It's why Amy Klobuchar, in a masterful piece of foresight, has sponsored legislation to put a stronger engine behind voting by mail.

It's also a tribute to the so-called Deep State, where outrageous orders are slow-walked back and delayed by government bureaucrats because eventually, as people start to figure him out, 45 will forget about them or think of something else. His mind has no order; it is a grab-bag of ideas, mostly with no connection to governance whatsoever. They were cute to start with, but become tired and annoying because they simply can't be operable and, after a while, he should know better. He should be the kind of person a decent president should be calling to get possible policy options, throwing in a brainstorm or two. Instead, we have calls to Alex Rodriguez and appearances by Mr. My Pillow, that somehow are supposed to represent ingenuity, but fall flat as pointless.

You'll remember that you forgot all this stuff, especially now that so much irresponsibility has been demonstrated by 45 in the wake of the coronavirus; you'll face the ceiling, roll your eyes, and say to yourself, I forgot about that. But the book's contribution to the literature that depicts this cravenness is not only well-contrived, but necessary so that we remember it all. We cannot repeat this disaster.

This is a book which, because the authors don't appear on CNN or MSNBC (at least, I've never seen them), will probably go to the half-price shelves faster than other exposes that demonstrate someone who's used to having his way, but can't, by better-known writers. If and when it does (and when bookstores re-open), pick it up. It opens a window into a world where people who are supposed to have a handle on reality intentionally don't--and the results are an awful demonstration of what happens when the wrong people are put in charge by an electorate that isn't looking nearly well enough.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark

My Tooth Hurts. It Means An Ethical Decision. Ask Mom.

My ancestry nearly got me two years ago. It was too much cholesterol, from my Polish grandmother's side, which nearly did me in. I caught it literally just in time, and got a triple by-pass.

If that were only it. I have my late Uncle Jim's eyebrows and my Dad's big feet (13!) his receding hairline, and bad teeth. It's the latter that's got me now.

I have another sore tooth. You find these things out when you brush them and they bleed rather vociferously. It means, usually, either of two things: a root canal, or a pulling.

But what it actually means is a trip to the dentist.

Of course, this wouldn't matter one way or another in normal times. But here I sit with a heart condition, at 68 years old, a perfect prototype for transmission of the coronavirus if I'm not careful.

So hey, I've been careful. I've pretty much sequestered myself. I have a whole big bunch of books that I could read and re-read. I make a good chili, and with the bucket I have, it's at least four or five days before I have to make another one, despite my big appetite and penchant for making things that taste good. Loneliness aside (which will become a bigger deal as we all go, of course), I'm taking on the virus as best I can.

Under these circumstances, the virus is going to have to work to find me. Yes, I go to the store. Yes, I wear surgical gloves. Yes, I pick up prescriptions for my heart condition. Yes, I keep my distance from people, and if I don't, I walk right past them without stopping, aisles being too jammed to provide the six feet of space recommended.

I even have the mail held until each Friday, and leave it lie on the floor for 48 hours. I also order the Sunday New York Times, which I treat similarly, so I don't look at it until Tuesday.

I snuck out yesterday and went to a Starbucks. Stir crazy, I waited in line at the wheel 20 minutes, at least. Plenty of others had the same idea. Did I make a mistake? Who knows?

And, with the delivery yesterday, two masks, courtesy of my brother and sister-in-law (shout-out!), arrived. Whatever I have to do to keep them in decent shape, I will.

So I've cut down my chances. I'm not Han Solo: Don't tell me the odds. No, tell me the odds, so I'm ready. My dentist is in Ozaukee County, for instance, just north of Milwaukee County, where there's been a whole lot more cases. Those odds help.

But my tooth hurts some. It hurt a lot Friday, and it felt like it was going to start throbbing. If you have had a tooth throb, there's little pain like it. You have to get help. Now.

So I called my dentist, expecting a recorded message. I got the desk instead. She sounded perfectly calm. Yes, we have an opening on Monday morning, but you can't come in now because we're about to leave (this was Friday about noon). In the meantime, she said, if you feel pain, get a teabag and bite down on it. It really helps.

I had never heard of that, but if it starts to throb, you can bet I will. It's Sunday now, and I have a little less than 24 hours before I go. Or, don't. I can call back tomorrow and cancel, I suppose, and hope to ride this out.

But I know that the root has died. That's the bleeding. That's the indicator. Usually, infection then sets in. It isn't long, and it really, really hurts.

Am I committing suicide in what might be the worst possible way? I don't have the virus. Dentists wear masks, and I have no doubt they'll keep doing so. But my mouth has to be open for a long, long time to fix the problem. If someone in that office is asymmetrical, I'm a dead duck. I'll get a dose that's good and strong.

I brushed today, expecting more bleeding. Didn't get any. It has stopped.

Does that mean the nerve is dead? Or that the gum is healing? I flossed yesterday; the gap between teeth is small up there. The floss stuck so I had to yank on it. Blood came out onto the book I was reading. It'll be a nice memory.

If I have a memory. That means that I'll live long enough to remember this time.

This isn't whimsical. This is real. The stats I've seen indicate that Wisconsin won't reach its peak infection until about May 22. That seems to be a good sign that if I go take care of this now, my chances for survival seem better.

But the bottom line is that everything depends on what happens inside that office, while I'm in that chair. That's where it's 100% safe, or 100% not. And with the paucity of testing, there's no way to know that, unless the dentist has been tested. I don't know that.

There's no absolute way to know, once I get in that chair, that I'm safe, if he hasn't. I have to take that chance.

It's quite a chance, when you come right down to it. Getting coronavirus might mean dying. And, by all accounts, it's a terrible death: Asphyxiation, slowly, and alone. None of my relatives could see me. Someone dressed like an alien might be there to hold my hand as I leave this earth. That's about it.

So do I go? Or do I ask for antibiotics and take my chances of an infection? I can't do nothing. I already know this is trouble.

The 45 administration says that the next two weeks will be awful, that the virus will spread tremendously. That worries me, too. But for me, nothing else will matter besides what is decided at 9 a.m. Monday morning. At least, as far as that goes.

I'm going to go and explain myself. I'll let them help me make the final decision. Then we'll go with that. It's about all I can do.

I didn't know what else to do, so I did what a red-blooded American boy would do: I asked Mom. That she's 95 has nothing to do with it. She still thinks steady, like she always has.

"I'd go," she said. "You need to have it looked at."

That's that, then. Mom said. She said. Am I protected? Maybe because Moms have a way to protect their sons. Besides, Dad (age 93) said it was a good idea, too.

What the hell. I'll walk in with some kind of faith. Nothing else to do.

This is awful. It will end at some point. That's what they're saying, anyhow. Maybe I'll be around to see it.

Be well. Be careful. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.


Mister Mark