On Tyranny: The Handy Guide to Preserving Democracy

Timothy Snyder is kind of a working person's intellectual. He uses simple words for complex issues so we can better understand them.

He's not impressed that he's a professor at Yale. He realizes all too well that as a democracy, we have much work to do and we need to keep doing it. He sees the inherent danger in letting our collective guards down and allowing the forces of authoritarianism to rise.

It's for that reason, I think, that he has written a short but cogent guide to participating in democracy called On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century. He describes 20 ways in which democracy is or has been undermined by those seeking power for its own sake, and suggests 20 ways in which we can combat it.

I consider it a public service to print those 20 ways here. We've already needed them and we'll continue to need them in the challenging days ahead. You may not think we're anywhere near the points he's making, but trust me--we are one election away. We know what things look like at present, but November 2024 is still nearly a year and a half off. It could all fall into the feared rut yet. But it's still up to us. That hasn't gone away, and it won't.

1. Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.

2. Defend institutions. It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of "our institutions" unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about--a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union--and take its side.

3. Beware the one-party state. The parties that remade states and suppressed rivals were not omnipotent from the start. They exploited a historic moment to make political life impossible for their opponents. So support the multi-party system and defend the rules of democratic elections. Vote in local and state elections while you can. Consider running for office.

4. Take responsibility for the face of the world. The symbols of today enable the reality of tomorrow. Notice the swastikas and the other signs of hate. Do not look away, and do not get used to them. Remove them yourself and set an example for others to do so.

5. Remember professional ethics. When political leaders set a negative example, professional commitments to just practice become more important. It is hard to subvert a rule-of-law state without lawyers, or to hold show trials without judges. Authoritarians need obedient civil servants, and concentration camp directors seek businessmen interested in cheap labor.

6. Be wary of paramilitaries. When the men with guns who have always claimed to be against the system start wearing uniforms and marching with torches and pictures of a leader, the end is nigh. When the pro-leader paramilitary and the official police and military intermingle, the end has come.

7. Be reflective if you must be armed. If you carry a weapon in public service, may God bless you and keep you but know that evils of the past involved policemen and soldiers finding themselves, one day, doing irregular things. Be ready to say no.

8. Stand out. Someone has to. It is easy to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. Remember Rosa Parks. The moment you set an example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow.

9. Be kind to our language. Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. Make an effort to separate yourself from the internet. Read books.

10. Believe in truth. To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis upon which to do so. If nothing is true, then all is spectacle. The biggest wallet pays for the most blinding lights.

11. Investigate. Figure things out for yourself. Spend more time with long articles. Subsidize investigative journalism by subscribing to print media. Realize that some of what is on the internet is there to harm you. Learn about sites that investigate propaganda campaigns (some of which come from abroad). Take responsibility for what you communicate with others.

12. Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.

13. Practice corporeal politics. Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.

14. Establish a private life. Nastier rulers will use what they know about you to push you around. Scrub your computer of malware on a regular basis. Remember that email is skywriting. Consider using alternative forms of the internet, or simply using it less. Have personal exchanges in person. For the same reason, resolve any legal trouble. Tyrants seek the hook on which to hang you. Try not to have hooks.

15. Contribute to good causes. Be active in organizations, political or not, that express your own view of life, Pick a charity or two and set up autopay. Then you will have made a free choice to support civil society and help others to do good.

16. Learn from peers in other countries. Keep up your friendships abroad, or make new friends in other countries. The present difficulties in the United States are an element of a larger trend. And no country is going to find a solution by itself. Make sure you and your family have passports.

17. Listen for dangerous words. Be alert to the use of the words extremism and terrorism. Be alive to the fatal notions of emergency and exception. Be angry about the treacherous use of patriotic vocabulary.

18. Be calm when the unthinkable arrives. Modern tyranny is terror management. When the terrorist attack comes, remember that authoritarians exploit such events in order to consolidate power. The sudden disaster that requires the end of checks and balances, the dissolutions of opposition parties, the suspension of freedom of expression, the right to a fair trial, and so on, is the oldest trick in the Hitlerian book. Do not fall for it.

19. Be a patriot. Set a good example of what America means for generations to come. They will need it.

20. Be as courageous as you can. If none of us is prepared to die for freedom, then all of us will die under tyranny.

All of the above were his words, at the onset of each chapter which goes into deeper explanation of their meaning. When he tells you to read books, for instance, he suggests which ones, so don't let this be a substitute for getting hold of this brief book and reading it. The impact of each of these issues inevitably falls into historical explanation of how the Nazis made good use of the simple fact that not nearly enough of law-abiding, decent German people didn't utilize the democratic processes that were at their disposal--that are at our disposal, too.

Some of this seems abstract, as if it couldn't be happening to us. But it is or could easily be. And some of the suggestions about what to do about it--note #13--seem incredibly simplistic. But ask yourself: When was the last time you joined a mass protest? When was the last time you wore a t-shirt or put a bumper sticker on your car to protest an injustice in our society? Yes, you're just one voice. One voice among many. 

Exercise your freedoms, says Snyder, or they can easily be taken away. If expressing yourself begins a conversation, all the better. If you agree with the sentiment on a t-shirt, say so to the wearer's face. You might inspire someone to keep going.

Do you want twisted people in power, or do you want people with good judgment to take on the challenges of our modern society? It's still up to us. But mere voting won't do it. Participatory democracy activates the things Timothy Snyder has listed. It's not too late. You can get started any time you want.

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

Mister Mark

Is DeSantis Cooked in Wisconsin? Recent Poll Says the Opposite

Ron DeSantis, we are told, is toast. His presidential campaign has been losing momentum repeatedly. Just look at the guy, anyhow. He doesn't even know how to stand!

His state, Florida, is presently trashing anything not incredibly reactionary and condemning it as "woke culture." Black and gays are particularly vulnerable to attacks and strictures that used to defy imagination. For the governor of such a backwards-facing state to actually believe he can win a nationwide race is, what, beyond absurd?

Columnist after columnist has buried him. Okay, but how much of that is wistful thinking, and how much of that is based on hard evidence?

So please, if you will, absorb this bit of information from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel's Bill Glauber:

    Wisconsin is shaping up to be a tight battleground in the Republican primary for the presidency, according to July 5's Marquette University Law School Poll.

    Former president (he who will not be named) was favored by 31% of Republicans and Republican-leaning independents surveyed, while [DeSantis] was at 30%.

    But in a head-to-head match-up, DeSantis was favored by 57% and [ex-] by 41%.

    And in theoretical general election match-ups next years, President Joe Biden led DeSantis by 49% to 47%, while Biden had a bigger lead against [ex-], 52% to 43%.

Sooooooo whose campaign's falling apart? Remember Wisconsin's strategic positioning in the electoral scheme: always a swing state. Remember that the first Republican presidential debate takes place in Milwaukee next month. Remember that the 2024 Republican National Convention is also in Milwaukee.

What does all this mean? You can say it's too soon to tell, but the numbers clearly fly in the face of what the pundits are racing each other to say: DeSantis doesn't have a chance.

It sure doesn't look that way in Wisconsin. How can this be explained? A number of ways, possibly:

• Wisconsin has always been difficult to figure out. Just take our two U.S. Senators: Tammy Baldwin and Ron Johnson. You couldn't pick two more different politicians. A reflection upon our polarization, perhaps?
• People really are getting tired of ex- and his shenanigans. His influence is fading ever-so-slowly. You can barely perceive it--though there are plenty left over in the cult;
• It doesn't matter which authoritarian candidate survives. It just matters that there is one. The preference for the strongman has not only endured--consider Texas--it's flourished. In DeSantis, Wisconsin reactionaries might just see what they've been lusting for all along--the simple answer to everything, delivered with insults;
• The same for racism. Sadly, Wisconsin has perpetually been on the back burner with regard to racial prejudice, but that burner has never cooled off.

Regardless, there seems to be a restlessness among Wisconsin Republicans. Their faith in their previously unchallenged standard bearer looks to be eroding. That DeSantis seems to have horrible policy choices, but few clear grifting or fraud inclinations, seems to be the horse they're riding.

But threats to democracy in the name of "preserving America" take more than one form. At bottom--which is where they belong--they mean that people don't want to take on the responsibility of self-government, that there is no such thing as "good" government. They can't be bothered with it. 

That Wisconsin, formerly a state infused with the energy of progressivism, has sunk to this level, bodes very badly for the rest of the nation. Now, more than ever, people who still believe in our flawed but effective system must step up and be counted--in dinner conversations and at the polls.

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

Mister Mark

All Ethics, Like All Politics, Are Apparently Local

Any comments, please address them to dadofprince@gmail.com--many thanks!

When a former student gets to be a judge, well, it's a proud moment. Here's someone dedicated to the greatest kind of public service--the maintenance of extending and interpreting the meaning of laws so that society can continue to function.

When you think about it, you realize that there are so few of them holding up that vital branch of our government. They operate mostly in obscurity. If they garner attention, it's usually for a negative reason. We elect many of them, especially in small locations, though most elections are unchallenged. That idea has its proponents and opponents; some say all judges should be appointed so as to keep politics from directly affecting their decisions.

Gwen Connolly, who was in a freshman history class I taught some time ago, saw herself in both positions lately, in a way. Gwen, a top-notch student at Cedarburg High, got elected to be the judge in Milwaukee County Circuit 44, and repeated as an incumbent. When a state appellate position opened up, she decided to run for it. But first, Governor Tony Evers could, and did, appoint a judge to temporarily fill the spot.

Gwen applied. But she didn't get it. Evers gave it to Pedro Colon, who used to be a fairly big name in the state assembly back in the Oughts. That smoothed the way for Colon to campaign to win eventual election to that position, pretty much a one party Democratic appellate district. Gwen, too, is a Democrat. She also would probably have won going away.

Back to the judicial salt mines she went. As part of a novel I'm writing, I asked her to lunch to talk about what judges do, what they say in some situations, and why. We never really got there. Coming in second for an appointment she had counted on pretty much took up the conversation. She was brave about it. I tried to reassure her that how she accepted the disappointment would be important in her future ambitions.

Nonetheless, I was grateful for her time. As a gentleman might do, I got out my card and tried to pay for lunch. Except that wasn't going to happen. She insisted we go Dutch.

It felt odd. I wasn't trying to do anything more than get some generic information from her, something I might do with any other local judge I happened to speak with. I doubt that anyone would have made the slightest stink about it. After all, here I was, a former teacher of hers. That relationship never goes away, and she was certainly respectful of it.

No matter. She avoids the least possible implication of impropriety. After all, I'm a resident of Milwaukee County. I don't intend to be in her courtroom for any functional reason (though I could visit there on my own; courts are open to the public), but the slightest sliver of a chance about that could raise questions in someone reporter's mind at some point for some reason, however distant. She didn't want favoritism implied in any way.

She appreciated my gesture, but operating clean and completely upfront is how she rolls. "I draw a bright line," she told me.

We come now to Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, who clearly haven't. It's been reported multiple times that, at least since 2004, Thomas has gained favors from very rich friends whose interests have most certainly been represented in cases appearing before the Supreme Court. He has not reported them. He has not recused himself from any cases. Neither has Alito.

Thomas has not commented upon these findings, either. Neither has Alito.

I wonder what they would say if someone confronted them with the obvious question. I suppose they would not only deny being affected in their decisions in any way, but might even take offense at any implications that they had. Based on their general manners as reflected in public statements they've made, I expect nothing less.

But they both know, as do we all, that the appearance of impropriety is, in itself, impropriety. To avoid or neglect due diligence about keeping one's nose clean about accepting favors tells everyone things that are redoubtable and even unacceptable about the character that's necessary to reflect integrity upon themselves, their decisions and the Court on which they serve. Like it or not, trying to dodge it or not, they are highly noticeable.

Contrast this with a very unnoticeable judge, Gwen Connolly, who won't even accept lunch at a relatively inexpensive restaurant from her former teacher. She has a conscience about these things. She understands that people have long memories. Can she be bought off with 17 or 18 dollars? We'll never know because she refuses to accept even that small of a favor. She's drawn a bright line and she has no inclination to cross it.

Thomas and Alito, though, weren't elected. They were chosen by presidents Bush 41 and 43, respectively, approved by the U.S. Senate and chosen for life. At the time of his choosing, Thomas was questioned about his controversial background, but escaped when he evoked memories of lynch mobs. Once he could glide under the radar, people turned the other way and assumed he would step up when the time was right. He obviously hasn't. Neither has Alito.

Both have reportedly been given fishing trips and other excursions by people who can easily afford them. It's absurd to believe that they were gifted just because they were friends. If you doubt this, let me ask you: Have you been gifted many trips, or indeed any trips, just because you were someone's friend? If you happened to be so incredibly lucky to have that happen, can you definitively and without a doubt say there were no strings attached, even implicitly? Isn't gifting itself a comment that doesn't need explicit commentary?

More to the point: If Clarence Thomas or Samuel Alito had not been on the U.S. Supreme Court, would they have been treated as well as they have been, as well as they have allowed themselves to be? If they had remained just regular lawyers, would they have connected with the mega-rich the way they have? Even if they would have managed the same kinds of handouts, they wouldn't be the country's most momentous decision-makers. Our whole society's path wouldn't be riding on what they said and wrote.

In a sense, then, we don't really need to plumb much farther into who did what for whom. Even if no court cases could have directly conflicted with these justices' interests, the appearance of impropriety is, in itself, impropriety, if the justices don't recuse themselves.

Clarence Thomas said he asked people about conflicts of interest. But those people didn't include anyone from the Senate committee assigned to monitor potential issues like this, the Senate Judiciary Commiittee. Why would that be: Because he already knew the answer, one he wouldn't like?

Does clearing ethics issues with people who most likely wouldn't tell him the stone truth--they are, of course, his friends--make it all right? Doesn't that sound like a kid who plays one parent off against the other, seeking grounds for permission he knows are shaky? Isn't the fact that Thomas felt he had to ask someone is an effort not to clarify, but to get away with gifting that sure looks like grifting? And he hasn't been reporting things for nineteen years.

Nobody's probing with a microscope here. It's very obvious. It's another guardrail that's gone down. We used to assume that naturally, all Supreme Court justices would police themselves ethically. Again, we ignore history. Other justices have lost their balance along that fence, too. All those wrongs don't make Thomas right, though.

Isn't it pathetic that we have to ask these questions of appointees to the highest court in the land? Are they exhibiting the "good behavior" that the Constitution demands, subject to (supposedly) impeachment and removal? They aren't subject to electoral review, either. Only death stops them. It would take a Constitutional amendment to limit their terms to a finite number of years. Good luck with that.

In the meantime, Gwen Connolly's ethics are solid as steel. She has nothing to hide. The people of the 44th judicial district should be secure in the knowledge that there will be nothing in the back of her mind whenever she has to tell any lawyer, or any defendant, anything. Nothing will be tainted or compromised. The exquisite irony of making unfettered rulings for one small judicial district in Milwaukee (hopefully, for all of them), instead of the highest federal court, cannot be lost. Ethics, like all politics apparently, remain local.

I hope Gwen and I have lunch again. I hope it will be when she manages to move up the ladder, as someone like her so richly deserves. We'll go Dutch. She'll insist.

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

Mister Mark

Thompson to Evers: Going Around, Coming Around

I remember how pissed we were. Governor Tommy Thompson had taken the line-item veto and put in on garish display.

No longer did Thompson have to veto an entire budget, for instance, throwing out things he liked in favor of preventing things he didn't like. He even had power to cross out letters and punctuations--the so-called "Vanna White" veto, after the co-host of "Wheel of Fortune," who flipped letters to reveal clues on the game board. It gave him immense power.

More to the point, it took the impetus to make legislation entirely from the state assembly and senate's hands, where it's supposed to belong. It constituted micro-managing legislation to a sometimes absurd extent.

The law allowing such vetoes gives the governor permission to, as a Marquette Law Review article said in Spring 1993, the ability to "delete individual words, eliminate digits, and reduce the amounts of appropriations in a budget bill."

We in the teachers' union saw it as a direct challenge to the power we used to have. Education is the driving force in any state's budget, and the insertion of the ability to take out one little piece after another takes away the ability of any interest group, not just a union, to influence what happens.

Very few Wisconsin governors had made vigorous use of this enormous power, which has in fact existed since 1930. Thompson availed himself with a scimitar. He frustrated a legislature controlled by compromise with 408 line-item vetoes in 1987, 281 in 1989, and a whopping 457 in 1991. Without override ability, the legislature was strapped with a now one-sided, power-laden governor. It almost didn't matter what or how legislative deliberations came to whatever budget proposals were made; without the two-thirds majority required to override gubernatorial vetoes, it was the governor who could dictate what needed to be in the budget.

By 1991, Thompson had been governor for one full four-year term and had been re-elected in 1990 by a 16-point landslide. He was on the way to being governor for 14 years, having it interrupted only by taking the Secretary of Transportation position offered to him by incoming President George W. Bush. Thompson had been given a mandate, and now he was taking it by storm.

Thompson took license with something that had faded mostly into memory, much like the presidential "pocket veto," which allows the president to put a proposed bill in his desk drawer, so to speak, with ten days or less remaining in a Congressional session, under the guise of not having sufficient time to consider it (which, considering all the news coverage of his office and Congress, is absurd and has made it largely obsolete). In many budget deliberations, various governors utilized the line-item veto very little or not at all (source: Marquette Law Review, Spring 1993).

Of course, Republicans in the legislature complained about Thompson's massive use not one bit. They were beside themselves. They could put up firewalls against WEAC, which always wanted more money for education and educators, without taking specific responsibility for standing in the way.

So now, when current Governor Tony Evers has taken delicate liberties with education funding in the present budget proposal, crossing out numbers (as he had the power to do, see above) to allow education funding increases until 2425, a whopping 402 years, Republicans are filled with complaints about improprieties and guardrails being sundered.

My reaction? First, Republicans seized a stranglehold on power by manipulating the division of electoral districts so as to foment extreme gerrymandering on the state, both on the state assembly and senate and the U.S. Congress. Two Congressional races in 2022 had no Democratic opposition at all. The plan was, obviously, to bully the state into accepting Republican thinking in perpetuity, even longer than 402 years. Checks and balances ambushed them in a way which they profited from 30 years ago, but doesn't quite fit into their overall plan of domination. 

In other words, tough beans. You celebrated before. Now reap the whirlwind.

Secondly, laws are too often passed with a narrow perspective. Someone has an ox to be gored, and every nail needs a hammer. Nobody can see past their noses into a future in which legislative lockdowns against the other side's abuse can be turned against the perpetrating party. But it isn't true that what can't be foreseen never happens. It almost always does.

To wit: What goes around comes around. Republicans, read Assembly Speaker Robin Vos, who is of course filled with ersatz outrage, swear that they will get their version of the budget passed anyhow. This is hurtling full steam toward the state Supreme Court, the face of which is going to have a sea change in 21 days when newly elected Justice Janet Protasiewicz takes office and the ultra-conservative core is going to get trampled into irrelevance, at least for the next few years. Listening to Republicans whine while engaging in their second favorite activity, playing the victim (their first being bullies), is delicious to observe.

This works both ways, though. The present U.S Supreme Court has been seized by reactionary thinking, reflected in its opinions on abortion and affirmative action, to mention just two. The cries for Court reform have gone up in some sectors of the Democratic cadre. Congress has the power to determine the number of justices on the Court; why can't the Court be expanded to create a new, reversely biased majority?

It could, except for two items: First, it would have to take a majority of both houses of Congress to provide that relief, and there are several Democrats who are wisely pausing at that door. So the votes just aren't there. President Biden is against it, too. Such a bill, even if it were to be miraculously passed, would be vetoed.

Second, expansion of Supreme Court numbers--to regain a majority would take four more, to make the count thirteen--could continue ad infinitum with the ascendance of power by the other side. Putting four more new Democratic-leaning members on the Court now, for instance, could mean expanding the Court by two members each time their decisions became too uncomfortable. The Court could end up with membership in the twenties, unmanageable and unwieldy. Even beyond that.

The Supreme Court has relevance issues now. What would it become then?

What went around would come around. I don't like the composition of the Court now, but that has as much to do with timing as with anything else. But adjustments are being made by its Dobbs decision. Much like Southern states began maneuvering around Brown v. Board almost from the moment it was announced, pro-choice states are passing new laws that favor women's rights to determine what they can do with their bodies. Federalism has its role, regardless of what anyone thinks about any Court rulings about anything. Let's let the Democrats take advantage of a "states rights" position and see where it goes.

For mild-mannered, soft-spoken Tony Evers to work something this radical into Wisconsin's state budget process means an explosion of frustration with what has become a dysfunctional state political system. As a life-long educator, he can see the surreptitious plans of a misguided Republican power structure to take public education and destroy it, based on exaggerated claims of immorality and incompetence. That is what should be addressed, not more tinkering with an engine that already isn't working.

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

Mister Mark

Gays to the Left! Gays to the Right! What to Do Next?

(Any comments, please reach me by my e-mail--dadofprince@gmail.com. Thanks!)

It was an ambush, plain and simple. I had walked into a trap.

A while back, I wrote that every so often--four or five weeks--I would travel to Sturgeon Bay to read one or two of these blogs to a group that assembled on what's called Writers Night. It takes place at the Tambourine Lounge, a hole-in-the-wall pub (or, it used to be until Covid) just off downtown, every Thursday.

Understandably postponed by Covid, Writers' Night renewed itself back in January. As one might imagine, its numbers were thin at the rebound. But last Thursday, well--the place was pretty filled, nearly to overflowing.

It's easy to overflow a place like that. It has a small stage and folding chairs off to the side of it. Cozy wouldn't be the exact definition of the atmosphere; snug would be more like it. It now offers rest room facilities and a water cooler. If you want to bring a beer or beers onto the premeses, you're welcome to do so. I've never seen anyone do that, though.

Anyhow--it had been a good six weeks since I'd been there, due to other things coming up on consecutive Thursdays. But I also wanted to remain relevant to that group. Reading one's stuff to an accepting crowd is a gratifying experience, even two and a half hours away by car. Plus--now they know me.

But something had happened while I was gone. I have no idea what's on the Writers' Night schedule, and I'd never been there on a special observance. Up until that particular night, I thought it was just freewheeling and freelancing, and then the long drive home, either that night or the next morning.

Cathy Grier, an excellent singer-songwriter (kind of a poorwoman's Bonnie Raitt, that kind of quality) and occasional facilitator of the festivities--usually a songwriter plays first, then a reader reads next in loosely arranged order--hadn't seen me in a while, and came over to greet me. Then she delivered the news: Tonight was LGBTQIA+ Night.

Surprise! I looked around the room. Most of the people, I figured, were gay. Yikes! Surrounded! I had ridden into an ambush!

Oops. Cathy, who came out a while back herself, told me I was welcome to stay, but would it be all right if I waited until gay writers and writers discussing gayness had read their stuff?

I suppose I could have walked out right then and there, I guess, as much in empathy with gay writers as in abject fear that, well, something could happen. Whatever in the hell that would be.

I took her up on it. And had a great time listening to gay perspectives on a number of things. Time allowed me to read my stuff at the tail end. Win-win in its best form.

So I'm here to tell you: I didn't become gay. It didn't rub off on me. Not even a little. I didn't feel very sinful, either. I'm not sure I even thought gay things, whatever they might be.

Please know that I don't feel any less straight than I did when I walked in unbeknownst, either. I don't think I'm inclined to like men now. I still like women every bit as much as I did before last Thursday. Really.

Such a declaration, of course, is crazy and seemingly stupid, but there are some out there who wouldn't get caught dead in the middle of such a room, who might have even walked out upon the discovery. They would consider themselves ambushed and surge to the exit.

Think not? Then why would even reading books written about and by gay people be banned, which is happening in both schools and public libraries? Why is it so threatening? Why would state legislatures care enough to pass legislation against such works? Who are these ersatz crusaders who would stamp out these horrible sins to relieve the rest of us from whatever they think afflicts us, except it doesn't?

I need to say this, too--I didn't read something about gays before I entered the Tambourine Lounge! I didn't encourage closeness with gays! I didn't bring it on!

And--what's vital here--I haven't gone to a bookstore or (gasp!) a library to find books written by gays or about them! Being surrounded by gay people ended up in my being--wait for it--unchanged in any way!

I didn't even feel besieged! It didn't wear me out! Is there something wrong with me?? If there is, did hanging around with gay people for a couple of hours worsen it??

In fact, I felt perfectly comfortable. Credit my NEA background here. If someone has a problem with gays, the NEA isn't the place to be. When I left it, in 2009, a good 15% of the NEA Board of Directors, in fact, were gay, as well as a significant number of state affiliate presidents (where much of the power actually lies). I never felt a barrier of any sorts. No big deal, and I think my comments reflected that.

I got up there and explained my feelings by comparing them to an old Miller Lite commercial in which people are shouting the comparative benefits of that beer--"Less filling! Tastes great!" with the then New York Yankees manager Billy Martin in the room, observing the commotion. Then, in a gesture he wouldn't be known for under any circumstances (he was known for his pugnacious combativeness), he turns to the camera and says, "I feel very strongly both ways," which is to say that that beer is both, the point of the commercial.

I continued that I was glad I was reading my stuff last (It was the earlier blog you may have read about the liberal arts and my participation within them) and that those to whom the evening had been previously dedicated got first dibs. I had also learned a few things about the gay lifestyle that I hadn't known. One lady had written about dating heterosexually, for instance, realizing that she needed to come out, and then trying to find a female partner; well done and pretty funny. I had never heard anyone comment about that before. I considered myself fortunate to be in the room.

I regarded the evening as something of a happy accident. I suppose one could say, in fact, that I had changed, but for the better. I had been enriched in a way I hadn't anticipated, which is sometimes the best way of all, when you realize that you don't know what you don't know. I had certainly felt comfortable all evening. I mean, big deal, you know?

That the matter can prompt writing to remark upon it indicates that there remains a significant sector of our society that can't get over itself when considering gay culture and its significant, important contributions. That it has gone overboard with some people's avoidance and continued condemnation (read: DeSantis) shows that it's an artificially juiced-up controversy that shouldn't even be there. But gays and prejudices against them have a history, too, one that, it says here, should be examined in more depth.

We have absorbed, and rightfully so, lots of research and literature about Blacks and 400 years of our missing the boat about them. It's past time to do that for gays--and it should be done by people who are straight.

In the meantime, I just had myself an unexpectedly good time. Wouldn't mind being banqueted like that in the future. I'll bring the beer.

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

Mister Mark

A Message from--the Hereafter, Maybe?

Truth be told, I originally was very ambivalent about going to my 50th college reunion. I'd gone to nearly all the rest of them, and my cumulative pleasure with them had faded over the years.

I suppose that my status as something of a regular prompted not one, not two, but three entreaties from various people to show up. I wondered about that. Why the bother? They didn't need my contribution all that much. Most of the people who graduated with me had better-paying careers than mine as a teacher. I figured that the university should be milking them to strengthen its endowment.

But it was also commensurate with my overall mood, no doubt exacerbated by Covid. I guess I was no stranger to what someone at my church called a "malaise," that overall feeling that things weren't right and weren't going to be so, at least not for quite a while, accompanied by concomitant grouchiness.

With about two weeks to go, though, I decided to get over myself and show up. I didn't think anyone would miss me all that much, seeing as how they hadn't seen me in quite some time and weren't likely to see me again. But three people trying? I thought that was odd.

I took a moment to step back. There must be a reason for this, I thought. Maybe if I show up, I'll find it. But you don't have to know about something like that for some time. Fate doesn't work that way. Forces in the universe take their good-natured time. And maybe it was just my application of mystery that pulled me back, perhaps one last time. If I wouldn't come, though, there'd be no chance of knowing.

I didn't even have to look for it. It arrived the first night I was there. All I had to do was stand at the far edge of the counter in the pre-arranged meeting room in one of the dorms, which had been designated as our class "headquarters"--i.e. a place to drink and inhale munchies mostly unimpeded by pretenses, which is also what Lawrence had been known for.

I didn't know Tony, who approached. I knew of him, which is fairly common at a small college like Lawrence. But we had never had a conversation, never since 1969, when we originally matriculated.

"You're Mark Cebulski, right?" he said. I confirmed that. "Mike Grogan had some really nice things to say about you."

Mike Grogan. Holy smoke. Yes, he was in our graduating class. Yes, we played baseball together. Yes, Tony was his college roommate.

Yes, he died of cancer way too soon. Some time before, too. Hell of a shame.

Of course, I appreciated Tony's gesture. I also appreciated the message it delivered. As normal, nobody really knows what other people think about you until they say so. They aren't likely to do that. Neither are people likely to ask. If you beg for approval, it diminishes you the instant you do so, as in why would you even ask? It exposes you as needy. So most of us compliment each other based on what we do rather than who we are. It's risk-avoidant.

I was gobsmacked, though. I scarcely knew what to say besides, "I'm glad I know that."

Mike came to Lawrence as a transfer. He had talent in the position in which I started on the team, catcher. It presented Coach Bob Mueller with a problem. He decided to send me first to the outfield, then to first base and leave him behind the plate.

I could see this coming, but I adjusted pretty decently and stayed cheerful. My approach to playing baseball was pretty much to throw me a glove and I'd be a happy camper. As a result, though certainly not a star, I rode the bench very little in my four years with the team.

Besides, Mike could throw out baserunners better than I could. Anybody with more than a passing knowledge of baseball knows how vital that is. I was good at blocking pitches and handling pitchers, two skills that are good to have in a catcher (when a pitcher was getting wild, I'd step out from behind the plate and fire the ball back at him full speed with the accompanying comment, "Throw strikes!" It worked more often than not.). But my throws to second were too erratic (Mostly because I had already thrown out my arm as a kid in recreation league. Which I have told no one. Until now.). So I came to accept that. Remaining in the starting lineup salved the wound. Besides, I ended up liking first base a lot. Outside of catcher, it's the center of activity on the diamond.

But Mike also had an odd quirk. Listening to him talk, which he didn't do much, it felt that he saw himself as a throwback to the players of old time, eschewing fanciness of all forms and promoting acceptance of baseball as a no-frills, tough game for tough people (which most of the time, it still is). He expressed that through his usage of his catcher's mitt.

The team had a couple of mitts, one of which I was happy to employ and it worked for me. But Mike had brought his own. As opposed to the team's, which had pockets that were normally large-sized so as to assist with wayward pitches, his mitt had a pocket exactly the size of the baseball located right in the middle. He was proud of it, proud of the challenge it presented. It was as if he was trying to raise the level of his game by making a difficult position even more difficult. His mitt looked like the ones used by, say, Bill Dickey and Gabby Hartnett in the 1930s.

Playing catch and doing pre-game infield practice, the mitt seemed to work. When he got into the game itself, though, the ball would keep popping out. Most of the time, this didn't matter. But when runners took off for second, dropping the ball presented them with free steals. Mike was a likable guy, and no one wanted to approach him (especially not me, the guy he had supplanted. Very poor form.). We would encourage him each time it happened. But that would turn to the silence of disapproval. Again, you tend not to tell someone that he's being a stubborn goat until he asks--and he sure didn't ask.

Because he was a good hitter, we tolerated the drops while he improved the glove's pocket. He would be sure to work it extra hard in practices, always just flinging a ball into it. Eventually, he got it to where he was consistent and the drops largely stopped. He became a damn good catcher, a steadying influence on the field, one that a team rallies around.

So it was with ambivalence that I received Tony's news. I was certainly glad Mike had thought of me positively; it was clear that I had backed away from the starting catcher's position with enough class (I'll allow myself a small pat on the back here) so as not to leave much of a trail. Intrateam jealousies, real or imagined, can wreck it.

But my second thought was, as I said to Tony: "I'm sorry he's not here. We would be talking about baseball and having some laughs."

I meant that in the purest way. It would have been good to see him, good to have a beer or two while talking about the game we both loved so much, especially with the rules changes that have taken place in baseball. Damn. But you have to wonder, too, about the force that brought Tony, who didn't know me, across the room to deliver the delightful surprise. He had remembered what Mike had said about me, whatever it was (he didn't provide details). And Mike must have said things more than once. It wouldn't have stuck with his roommate otherwise. That felt awfully good.

I wouldn't have missed Mike had Tony not approached, probably wouldn't have given him more than a passing thought. But now I do. Mike had a good heart. The world would have been better off if he had survived all these years. Beyond Sept. 11, 1998, though, we'll never know.

Had I realized that he thought well of me and I of him, well hell--we might have been more than cordial teammates. The repeatable lesson: Don't hide good thoughts. Speak them. We all need it. Without it, you might lose a friend. With it, you might acquire and keep one.

What was that all about? An angel? A force from the hereafter? A message in disguise from one who had gone before us? As one nears the final horizon, one gets better in touch with whatever possibilities lie ahead. Maybe Mike's soul is in a better place. Nothing wrong with hoping so.

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

Mister Mark