Note to Reader: For those who are not familiar with “Faux News: All the Fake News That Is Fit To Print,” this news source was very active in my blog postings during the Trump presidency. Due to the high stakes of the upcoming election, I have returned to it out of desperation.

What distinguishes Faux News (properly pronounced “Fox News”)  from other reliable sources of news coverage like PBS, CNN, The Washington Post and The New York Times, is that at Faux News we have informants disguised as messengers, janitors, stenographers, and technicians who work in the White House and can eavesdrop on top level, highly confidential conversations in the Oval Office. This is the latest post from one of the fictitious White House informants, a janitor, who overheard and secretly recorded this conversation verbatim following the ABC interview. Enjoy.

 

A group of high level Biden advisors are gathered in the Oval Office with Biden to discuss campaign strategy moving forward, following the ABC interview.

Advisor 1: Mister President. Bad news to report. Your approval among likely voters remains very low; and if the election were held today, it is likely that you would lose to the fascist Trump by a landslide. While we think you did a good job on the ABC News interview last night, you may not have convinced very many people that you are actually much younger than you look, that you are vigorous, intellectually sharp, and are at  the top of your game.

Biden: But I have been a great president. All the Democrats say that. Why are they turning against me? I am not all that old. I am as sharp as ever.

Advisor 2: Well, you come across as being too old and it appears nothing will change people’s minds at this point.

Biden: Well, I am not stepping down and never will. Jill supports me on this. So does my family.

Advisor 1: Great news, Mister President. You don’t have to. We have a solution.

Biden: Really? I am all ears. 

Advisor 1. You pull out your revolver, shoot Trump at close range, and kill him during the second debate. It would be spectacular! It would make headlines all over the world, and there is not a damn thing anyone can do about it if it is an official act. The Supreme Court now grants total immunity to the President of the United States for all official acts while in office.

Biden: But I am not all that good with a gun. My hands shake, my vision is not the best, and I might miss him and hit one of the commentators. Plus, it is against my religion. The Bible says “Thou shalt not kill.”

Advisor 2. We understand that you might have some reservations, Mister President, and have a suggestion which we believe may be more to your liking. If you do not feel up to the task, we recommend that you order the military to do it. There are many options like the Navy Seals or the Army Green Berets or one of our military spies.  However, to get the most publicity and coverage, we recommend that the action happen in the middle of the next debate. Just think how dramatic this will be. It will be the talk of the town. And don’t worry. We are convinced that the Seals or whomever you choose can get the job done.

Biden: Interesting idea. Who came up with it?

Advisor 1: I did. Our intelligence agents spying on the Trump campaign report that if Trump wins, he will imprison you and probably have your cabinet, Lynn Chaney and all those involved in the House impeachment hearings arrested and executed. Pelosi and Schumer too. It is either you or Trump. He is bragging that if reelected he can do this or anything he pleases because once he is reelected, he will have lifetime immunity for anything he does that is an official act, thanks to the Supreme Court. But he forgot one thing. He has not been reelected yet. You are the sitting president, not him! So you beat Trump to the punch. The Bible I think also says something like “do unto others as they do unto you.” This should not go against your religion. So, Mister President, order the Seals to neutralize the bastard before he neutralizes you. You are the only one now with total lifetime immunity. If you don’t do this now, you will be a cooked goose once Trump gets into office. He will probably order your demise on Day One, maybe even announce this during his inauguration speech.

Biden: Geeze. Never thought about this.

Advisor 2: Mister President, you really don’t have a choice. You would be saving our country from a fascist dictator, who will take our country and our world down the tubes. This would be a heroic act. Besides making the evening news, it might even end up in the history books.

Biden:  Are you sure this would be an official act?

Advisor 1: We have researched this with the greatest legal minds and constitutional scholars in the country, who all agree that if done properly, it will be an official act. Remember that you have taken an oath to protect the Constitution. If Trump wins, he will trash the Constitution, and democracy in the U.S. will cease to exist. So, what you need to do is to tell the American people after Trump’s body is dragged off the stage not to worry. You ordered this as an official act and give them your reasons for doing this. If you would prefer that the neutralization not happen during the debate, the neutralization could happen before or after (though if Trump was neutralized before the debate, obviously there would not be a debate.). If you do not choose to wipe out the Orange Fascist during the debate, your address to the nation should occur at the exact time that your order is being carried out. Just think of the drama! You will get lots of television coverage and social media postings. Remember–you are doing this to protect the Constitution and to assure that democracy will be saved. This is an official act! Be sure you mention that in your address—that you have ordered the military to neutralize Donald J Trump because of his existential threat to our country, the Constitution, and the world.

(long pause)

Biden: Will a teleprompter be available?

 

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Like many of you, Embry and I tuned into Thursday’s presidential debate only to find ourselves in dismay. This morning, I read all that was available online in The New York Times and The Washington Post and spent the better part of the morning watching Morning Joe (my favorite unbiased and nonpartisan television news channel). It turns out we are not alone. Today—the morning after– the Democratic Party is in a panic mode. The big questions are whether Biden’s performance was so bad that the party’s movers and shakers should try to persuade him to step down while there is still time for a replacement and who might that replacement be.

While practically everyone acknowledges that his performance was poor—due to looking and acting old and frail and muddling his words– most Democrats also point out that he has been a great president. Because of that some argue that he deserves another four years. In any event, unless he voluntarily releases his delegates, an action which seems unlikely, he will the party’s nominee, like it or not. Besides, switching horses at this late stage is extremely risky, especially since the race is so close. What to do?

My recommendation? Biden should withdraw. It is time to pass the baton to the next generation. I wrote a blog post over a year and a half ago, pleading with Biden to announce that he was honoring his pledge to be a one-term president. (See “Just Say No, Joe.” November 13, 2022.) My argument then was simply that he was too old to seek a second term.

One of the pundits this morning on Morning Joe commented that we should not worry too much. While Biden may lose the vote of many young people, he will likely pick up votes from seniors that will compensate for losing younger voters. They will love him for it.

Please. I doubt few octogenarians will be happy to see someone our age in the Whitehouse.

I am nine months older than Biden. Last time I checked we Homo sapiens have a limited life span on the planet Earth. When Biden and I were born, it was about 76. For those who make it to 82, on average we men have a tad over seven years left, about a year longer for women. So what is the problem? A second term would only be four years.

The problem is that we humans all slow down as we age, and we all lose certain capabilities, both physical and mental. We just can’t do many of the things we used to be able to do. I just returned from my 60^threunion at Davidson College. Over a third of my classmates have died; and the 15 percent or so of those who made it to the reunion, no one I talked to was still working in a full or even a part time job. Of all my friends my age or close to it, I know only one person who is still working and no one who has a full time, high pressure job. We seniors understand that we slow down. This is our experience. We know that disabilities set in, try to deal with them as best we can, and understand that we just can’t perform at the level we used to at a younger age. I do not know anyone in their 80s who would say they miss being in a high pressure or stressful job.

There are age limits for lots of jobs in the private sector and for good reason. The average age of a CEO of a Fortune 500 Company is 57. Only 18 percent are over age 65. It seems that the one major exception to this is the gerontocracy of the United States Senate and House of Representatives. I do not understand why this is the case but suspect it has to do with the kind of support that they have, their responsibilities or lack thereof, and workload. In any event there is a big difference between being a U.S. Senator or Congressman and being the President of the United States.

In my case, a decisive turning point was turning 80. However, there were many transition points along the way—when I gave up serious waterskiing in my mid 30s, when I gave up serious running in my mid 50s, when I sold my consulting company, also in my mid 50s, and began part time consulting, when I retired from adjunct college teaching and gave up tennis and canoeing in my late 60s, when Embry and I sold our house and moved to an apartment building in my mid 70s, and when we sold our last sailboat in my late 70s. Sailing was probably the toughest one to give up, but in each of these milestones, I came to realize that I could not continue to do these things anymore. But turning 80 seemed different and more like a watershed moment. I have still been able to keep up my walking 15-20 miles a week but at a much slower pace and I need to get more rest. With a bad knee and balance issues I have started using a hiking stick for long walks. I am forgetting names more often. But I am the lucky one. I do not have any life threatening diseases and am still able to keep moving—and blogging. But at age 82 being able to do any serious, high stress work is out of the question. Being the President of the United States? I don’t think so.

So what should happen next? It will take some time for leading Democrats to figure this out. But if Biden is going to step aside, it needs to happen soon. Trump right now is ahead in almost all the battleground states, and Republicans are euphoric. However, Biden shows no sign of throwing in the towel and reportedly gave an energized speech in Raleigh today to a crowd roaring their approval. Some will argue that there is still an opportunity for a better showing in a second debate.

But what about the stakes? If Trump were to get elected, democracy would be at risk for our country, and the damage he could do world-wide is unthinkable. Think Sixth Great Mass Extinction. It has already been 130 million years since the last one. These extinctions have occurred every 130-150 million years. Could we be next? Never have the stakes been higher. I don’t know if Biden read my November 2022 blog post, but he should, and he should follow my recommendation.  However, he does not have the luxury of time. It needs to happen now.

 

 

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My last post warned the reader that I would write about my paying a price for gutting it out for the Davidson reunion. Rest assured that at last I am on the road to recovery and have enough energy to write about the follow-up story—getting down there and getting back.

The flight from Washington National Airport was par for the course. We waited in line for about a half hour to get to the security clearance. Embry cleared immediately. I failed, and if I wanted the matter cleared up, I was told to proceed upstairs to the security desk. Hey, no problem. Was this the third or fourth time in a row that I have not sailed through security clearance? In trying to get to Costa Rica it was my passport that was about to expire. In trying to get to Puerto Rica it was the eye test that I failed followed by a pat down to find the weapon hidden in my underwear. In both instances, we finally made it to the gate minutes before it closed. So I am used to this.

We hopped on the elevator to the special security desk, waited in line; and when we got to the security expert who asked me what day I was born, I told her that it was April 1,1942. She said that was the problem. My driver’s license showed the correct date, but the reservation showed May 1. This serious problem had to be cleared up. Embry chimed in, “It was my fault. I put in the wrong date. I will testify that April 1 is the correct date.” The security lady excused herself to confer with her supervisor. Several minutes later she returned and replied, “Ok we will let you go this time” and printed out a new boarding pass. “Do not let this happen again.”

Off we went back to the line for security, which was now almost twice as long and took about 45 minutes and then walked to the gate, which had to be at least a mile away, located at the opposite end of the terminal. Given my weak left knee and bad sense of balance, I now often use a hiking stick and move very slowly. We made it to the gate just before boarding closed.

The flight arrived in Charlotte on time, and we walked a considerable distance to the rental car area. The line for Dollar was short and we were able to make it to Davidson only a few minutes late for the class dinner at 6:30. I checked my pedometer on my iPhone. We had walked over 2.5 miles. I commented that since this experience now seemed to be standard, we should try to  get to the airport for the return flight at least three hours before departure time.

 We made  it to the airport for the return flight to Washington with over two hours to spare though we were not prepared for what would come next.

Something has terribly gone awry at the Charlotte Douglas International  Airport. Embry and I have traveled all over the world including to many third world countries. The Charlotte airport on the day we were there was about as crowded as any of the airports we have been in. Long lines were everywhere including the lines to the machines to get boarding passes, and the people mulling around  were so close together that it seemed like Grand Central Station at rush hour. Since Embry had not gotten a boarding pass online, she stood at a machine only to discover that all the machines were down, and anyone needing a boarding pass was directed to go to the customer service area, which we did. When we nudged our way though the crowds, we found ourselves at the end of a long line that did not appear to be moving. I did a quick body count and stopped counting when I reached over 100. There were only five or six customer service desks. I concluded there was no way that we could make it to the gate on time. Embry then had a brilliant idea—try the internet. She got online and happily reported that she had gotten the boarding passes, which were being emailed to our smart phones. She had already received hers and encouraged me to check my email.

“I don’t have my iPhone,” I reported.

“Of course you do, you are reading emails or checking the weather all the time.”

“Well, it is not in my pocket where I usually keep it, so I lost it.”

“Excuse me?”

“And it was practically brand new. It is probably in the rental car.”

With a horrified look on her face, Embry escorted me to the side of the huge ticketing area where there were two vacant seats and directed me to sit down. She placed her carry-on bag next to mine and with the authority that is often used by young parents with unruly small children, sternly ordered, “You sit here. Do not move. Guard the bags. I am headed to the car rental!” And off she charged. We still had almost an hour to make it to the gate.

I stared off into space observing the masses of people panicking because the boarding pass machines were down. It was at least a ten minute walk to the rental car return area and another ten minutes back plus Embry usually does not pay much attention to the kind of car we rent. I also recalled as we were returning our car, I had counted at least a dozen cars which had pulled in behind us and more were pouring in every minute. As we got out of our car the attendants were already driving the returned cars ahead of us off the lot. What were the chances that Embry could find our car, find my phone and get back to the terminal in time to make our flight? While we had almost an hour, I figured it would take that long just to retrieve the phone—if she could even find it. This time we were doomed.

Resigned, I continued to stare off into space. Then suddenly Embry appeared running  toward me waiving the iPhone.

“Got it! Let’s go!”

We had about 40 minutes.

As we were making our way to the security line, she said she remembered the color of the car was red and told the attendant about our problem. He directed her to another lot where she began opening the door of every red car and after the tenth or twelfth try spotted the phone on the front seat.  We got in a long line for security which thankfully was moving quickly, and we reached the attendant with about 30 minutes to spare. There was still a chance we could make it. Embry quickly passed and went into the bag screening area.

 I was rejected.

Embry looked back at me over her shoulder with a horrified look of disbelief. “Not again,” I could almost hear her saying.

The lady guard said, “I am sorry to report that you will not be allowed to pass through security. The machine has rejected your driver’s license. Unless you have valid identification like a passport, you are not flying.”

“What is wrong with my driver’s license?”

“I have no idea, but the machine has the last word.”

When I demanded that she call her supervisor, a tall skinny guy came over and examined my license. I then asked if he could look at my photo and confirm that I am who I say I am. He agreed that I was who I said I was but then said that it appeared that my driver’s license was being held together by scotch tape, which it was, but which made it impossible for the machine to read.

“But if you can confirm that I am who I say I am, why not just let me in?”

 He excused himself to find his supervisor. I could see Embry observing, impatiently looking at her watch.

 Now all of this was taking time. The line of well over 50 people behind me was becoming uneasy. One person shouted, “Let him pass or throw him out for god’s sakes!” Another screamed that he was missing his flight. In another couple of minutes the supervisor returned and said it was ok to let me through—this time. I stumbled toward the security area. We could still make it.

As I was waiting for my bags to come through the machine, a guard came over and informed me that he had to check me out. The machine showed that I was hiding a weapon in my groin area.

“Not again,” I said.

When he sternly replied, “Oh, so this has  happened before?” I came close to losing it.

“Look,” I said, “I am 82 years old. I walk with a cane as you can see. And when was the last time someone hijacked a plane anyway? And you are pulling me aside to check if I have a weapon hidden in my underwear? This is outrageous! Believe me, you will not find a weapon down there. Just ask my wife. She is the lady standing over there laughing.”

Not even so much as a smile. Just doing his job, he said, somewhat apologetically, as he patted me down to the amusement of a small crowd. We had about ten minutes to make it to the gate, but as luck would have it when we finally staggered into the boarding area about 10 minutes after the gates were supposed to be shut, the boarding had not even started. There was a 30-minute delay.

Just another day in flying the friendly skies.

I said to myself, “I-am-not-going-through-this-again-period.”

When we finally stumbled into our apartment in Washington later that day, I collapsed and have been in a recovery mode for almost a month. I am finally starting to feel almost normal. When I reported all this to a doctor friend—that at what I thought was the tail end of a bad cold, I had walked almost three miles for three straight days and endured humiliation and stress beyond description, all of  which caused a troubling relapse,  his reply was “duh.”

Then I realized that in a month we are flying to Paris for the Olympics.

Stay tuned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On Tuesday, May 28 I came down with a very bad cold or something worse. Minor panic. In four days Embry and I were supposed to go to the 60^th reunion of the Class of 1964 at Davidson College. How could I miss this occasion to reunite with old buddies, and miss the opportunity to stay at the home of one of our dearest friends? Plus, I had the honor of introducing one of the main speakers, also a close friend. I went to bed immediately, tested negative for covid, drank plenty of liquids, and took it day by day. On Friday morning I was starting to feel better. In discussing the situation with Embry, she made the comment that this could be my last chance to see my Davidson classmates, noting that there was no such thing as a 65^th reunion at Davidson. Decision made: gut it out.

The reunion was all I could have hoped for. Five of my best friends—all former fraternity brothers– were there with their wives, along with an equal number of people I knew pretty well, which added together accounted for over half of the Class of 1964 who were present. When I attended Davidson, our class totaled 250. Some 86 of us have died, about 34 percent. About a dozen of the deceased I knew, some well. One was one of my best friends. Many others are probably struggling with serious health issues or have stopped traveling. Some have never attended any reunions. So, the 23 of us accounted for about 15 percent of the survivors. Sounds low to me, but we were told that our participation was par for the course for a 60^th reunion.

The six couples sat together at our class dinner on Friday evening, attended on Saturday  the talk by the new college president (a 40-something male alum), who passed muster, and we all agreed was a good choice, toured the campus including the new, vast athletic complex, and went to a lakeside restaurant together for dinner. I managed to stumble through my introduction of friend and classmate, Bill Ferris, a famous folklorist, author, film maker and former head of the National Endowment of the Humanities, who made a terrific talk.

The pedometer on my iPhone showed we had walked over three miles on Saturday. Normally this would be a good thing since for the last several years I have been walking between 12 and 15 miles a week albeit at a pace which has been diminishing each year and this year with the aid of a hiking stick. But my body was telling me that this time, maybe not a good idea.

But Embry was right as she is most of the time.  The reunion experience was worth the effort and important. Hey, we are now old codgers. We members of the Davidson Class of 1964 will all be 82 before the year is out. In five more years when in theory the next reunion would happen, those of us who survive will be 87. But how many of us will still be kicking? If nothing else, class reunions underscore human mortality. That is just the way it is for us humans and for all plant and animal life on the planet Earth. The challenge for each of us living creatures is to make the best of our limited time on the stage.

While most of the reunion conversations could be construed to be small talk—“How’s the family, kids, grandkids?”—they are more than that. Something more important  happens at reunions . Reconnecting is what counts, and here is where we humans join the rest of the animal kingdom. Have you noticed how animals connect or reconnect with another of their kind? Dogs are the extreme example. Hardly ever do two dogs  pass each other without a brief smell of each other’s rear end followed by a wag of the tail. This is like saying, “OK, I remember you, you’re a friend,” or “Gee whiz, I would like to get know you better,” and then they move on. This is very important in what it means to be a dog. It is part of their DNA. It is what must give meaning to their lives. Well, we humans are not all that different. Just a kind greeting, a smile, handshake or brief hug reestablishes that connection with an old friend. You do not have to engage in a deep or lengthy discussion. Reconnecting is why reunions are so important. It is also part of our DNA.

So, despite not feeling so great, I am very glad we attended the 60^th Davidson reunion, but I paid a price, and that will be the subject of the next blog post.

 

 

 

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Annie Jacobsen’s new book on the possibility of a nuclear armageddon, Nuclear War: A Scenario, is causing quite a stir. But who thinks much about nuclear war anymore? (When I was growing up in Nashville in the early 1950s, I remember atomic bomb war drills in grammar school when we kids crawled under our desks. In the 1960s, my younger brother brought home from the navy a sign that read, “In the event of nuclear war, extinguish all cigarettes.”) Afterall, atomic bombs and nuclear weapons have been around for almost 80 years and “only” used twice. In fact, while we know that large arsenals of these weapons still exist, the theory of “Mutually Assured Destruction” (MAD) has worked well so far, so why worry? Besides, what can anyone do about it?  Don’t we have enough to worry about already as many in our country alarmingly are supporting a candidate for president, who is sounding more and more like a fascist?

I have not read the book yet but have listened to a three-hour-long interview on the Lex Fridman podcast and viewed a YouTube video interview with Jacobsen of about the same length. Go to the internet and view or listen to these interviews. However, be forewarned: It will scare the bejesus out of you.

Jacobsen is an investigative reporter for The New York Times who has covered military and national security issues for many years. For this book she interviewed hundreds of experts and uncovered formerly classified material. She says that the reason that she wrote the book is that she believes the world at large has accepted the fact that thousands of nuclear warheads exist, albeit with a shrug and ho-hum attitude that MAD seems to be working just fine. She raises the question, “But what if it doesn’t?”

If it doesn’t, according to Jacobsen, and if a full scale nuclear war happened, it could mean the end of human and animal life on the planet. She describes in her book a scenario where we are attacked by North Korea, a rogue nation which now has an estimated 50 nuclear weapons. We counterattack sending dozens of nukes toward them. Because of the way our nuclear silos are set up, aiming toward the east, not the west, to hit North Korea the nukes must fly over Russia. When the Russians pick up the signal of missiles headed toward them, they think we are hitting them and retaliate with even more missiles unleashed toward the U.S. Then we respond with missiles headed to Russia. And all this happens in less than an hour. Then other nuclear nations join the fray. The planet Earth is forever changed.

Since the main target for the nukes from Russia is the Pentagon, this would mean that every building within a 20-mile radius would be instantly destroyed, and all the inhabitants instantly killed. But we in Washington would be the lucky ones. Our demise would be swift. What would follow would be even worse for those who survived as governments collapsed around the world and lawlessness prevailed. Food supplies would vanish and within hours the soot and debris would begin to block the sun resulting in a twilight lasting for years, decades, or longer. Temperatures would drop  20 or more degrees and without light plants would die and agriculture would cease.  Nuclear winter would set in, and the Planet Earth would join the other desolate planets in our solar system. Game over.

What struck me most about this doomsday scenario is that it tracks with the five mass extinctions that have already occurred on our planet, roughly every 130-150 million years. Each mass extinction wiped out between 85-95 percent of all plant and animal life. The last mass extinction happened about 130 million years ago when the dinosaurs got wiped out when a huge asteroid hit the Yucatan in Mexico. It turns out that according to scientists who keep track of this sort of thing, that technically the Earth is already entering the Sixth Mass Extinction due mainly to the destruction of animal habitats by us humans.  Should the unthinkable happen, this would complete the Sixth Mass Extinction.

Good heavens!  Nothing like this could happen—not to us—could it? Jacobsen is scaring the living daylights out of us for no reason since there is nothing we can do about it. But I suppose that is her point. We must figure out a way to assure that it won’t happen. That would mean getting rid of the thousands of nuclear weapons now stockpiled in nine countries and to make them illegal forever. But what are the chances that will happen? She would argue that it must happen if life on the planet is to survive. The nuclear holocaust may not happen in our lifetime, or our children’s or our grandchildren’s, but odds makers say that the chances are close to 100 percent that if we humans have these weapons, eventually we will use them again. It is only a matter of time.

 

 

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This morning (May 14, 2024) there were several articles about the 2024 presidential election, which to a bleeding heart Democrat like me are unsettling. The latest New York Times, Siena College and the Philadelphia Inquirer poll shows Trump leading in five of the six key battleground states—Michigan, Arizona, Nevada, Georgia, and Pennsylvania. Biden is ahead only in Wisconsin where he leads by a mere two percent. There was another article in the Times about Robert F Kennedy Jr. who is polling at nine percent with his popularity rising. The gist of that article was that while Kennedy is pulling voters from both Biden and Trump, his candidacy is hurting Biden the most and could well be the spoiler that hands the presidency to Trump. And when these polls were taken, the New York trial of Trump in the Stormy Daniels coverup was well underway, and the tawdry actions of the former president were common knowledge. There was also another interesting article about how inflation was hurting lower income households far more than higher income households because a much higher percentage have credit card and student loan debt, which translates to having to pay more for interest and being priced out of the home buying market. Many–including Black and Hispanic voters–are blaming Biden and turning to Trump, cutting into the traditional Democratic base. If all this is not enough to cause discomfort to a Democrat, a third poll this week showed that while a majority of voters were dissatisfied with both candidates, the electorate clearly wants a change from the status quo. A majority also answers the polling question about the economy that Trump did a better job during his term than Biden is doing now.

What? Are we Americans nuts? Unemployment remains close to historic lows, for the first time in decades wages are rising faster than inflation, and massive infrastructure projects are underway in every state. Furthermore, a majority of respondents to recent polls about the economy say that while they believe the country is worse off economically under Biden, their own financial situation is the same or better than it was several years ago. Go figure.

And these troubling findings are on the domestic front. It may turn out that the international front may be even more unsettling due mainly to the Israeli-Hamas conflict in Gaza. Biden initially supported Netanyahu’s retribution actions in Gaza, which have left over 35,000 Gazans dead, mostly women and children, and over 1.9 million homeless—over 85 percent of the population. The U.S. has spent billions of dollars in aiding Israel and supplying weapons, some of which presumably have been used in destroying thousands in of homes in Gaza and killing innocent civilians. We see on the evening news every night the inconceivable destruction that has happened, the weeping mothers and dying children. It is heartbreaking.  Now our policies seem to be changing, but the “Final Battle” in Rafah is just beginning. Will Biden’s actions be a case of too little too late?

Biden finds himself in a no win situation.  By limiting support for Israel, Biden will likely lose votes from those who support Israel, but by supporting Israel he will lose votes from the Progressives, who may choose to stay home on election day. And what about all the protests on college campuses? These remind me of the 1968 demonstrations when Embry and I were living in New York’s Upper West Side across from the Columbia campus, except they are more violent and involve students fighting students and more aggressive police interventions. It is likely that Trump will use these demonstrations to make the case that America needs a strongman like him, not a wimp like Biden, to quash the disturbances and bring “law and order” back to the country. If Progressives disrupt the Democratic convention as they say they are going to do, it would add more fuel to the fire for the Republicans. That was tried in 1968 and resulted in a victory for Nixon. Been there, done that. Not a happy outcome.

And the trial of New York versus Donald J Trump continues, with three other trials waiting in the wings but not likely to happen before the election. If convicted, would it make a difference? The polls tell us that for between 70 and 80 percent of Republicans the answer is no. (According to a 2023 CNN poll this is the same percentage that believe the 2020 election was stolen.) It appears that there is nothing that Trump could do to earn their disfavor. Some continue to believe that he represents the Second Coming of Jesus. But that leaves a healthy number of moderates, who might change their minds. However, most pundits think that the Stormy Daniels case is the least serious of the charges and if Trump is convicted, it won’t matter that much.

Has there ever been a time post Civil War when the country was more divided, the stakes higher, or the outcome more uncertain? And there are still almost six months left to go. Lots of water left to flow under the bridge. What more surprises are out there that could change the trajectory one way or another? Fasten your seatbelts. These are the times we are in.

 

 

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If you want something to alarm you even more than you already are about a Trump victory, Google “Project 2025” and read the various articles that are posted on the internet about this effort, which has been quietly going on behind the scenes for years. The Heritage Foundation and other right wing, so called “think tanks” have been working during most of Biden’s term on a playbook for Trump’s hoped-for reelection this year. This effort has produced a 900+ page manual listing all the actions that should happen when and if Trump gets reelected. Here is what we can expect to happen if a second term President Trump follows Project 2025:

• Trump will announce in his inaugural speech that he is invoking the Insurrection Act of 1807, which allows the president to deploy the military to act as police to arrest and jail “insurrectionists,” which Trump will define as any group or individual he does not like. If there are any protestors at the inauguration, expect them to be arrested and jailed. Anyone involved in college campus protests regarding Gaza can also expect the slammer. Trump has already said that any general or military commander who does not follow his orders will be executed.
• He will announce that he is reclassifying high level civil servants as political appointees and will fire the ones on the Project 2025 enemies list, to be replaced by right wing sycophants, which the Heritage Foundation has been screening and recruiting for months. All of Trump’s top level advisors will be sycophants this time around. The guardrails will disappear.
• He will announce that beginning immediately, he will order the military to round up all undocumented immigrants and deport them, beginning with the “Dreamers.” This will take some time since they are estimated to number over 10 million, the vast majority hard working and committed citizens. Huge, guarded tent encampments will be constructed in Texas and border states to imprison the immigrants while the deportation process is underway, and which could take years.
• Project 2025 spells out the process for slashing funding for the Department of Justice, dismantling the FBI and the Department of Homeland Security , gutting environmental and climate change regulations in favor of fossil fuel production, eliminating the departments of Education and Commerce, and ending the independence of various federal agencies such as the Federal Communications Commission and the Federal Trade Commission.
• The plan calls for making virtually all abortions illegal including the use of all abortion pills that are accessed through the mail.
• Project 2025 directs the government to recognize only heterosexual men and women, rescind anti-discrimination protections for LGBTQ individuals, and eliminate diversity, equity and inclusion provisions from federal legislation.

And this is just the beginning. The goal is for Trump to have complete autocracy in all matters. The United States will become a dictatorship flying under the banner of Christian nationalism. Term limits for the president would likely disappear, and the only consolation is that Trump probably would not be alive or healthy enough to seek a third term. There is not much in the plan regarding foreign policy but surely one of Trump’s first acts would be to get out of NATO and abandon Ukraine, maybe even get out of the UN. Russia would likely become an ally.

Of course, he will never be able to get away with all this. Afterall, we have three branches of government and a constitution. Our resilient democracy will fight back and withstand the onslaught. There is no way that a wannabe dictator like Trump could possibly pull this off. It could never happen, never.

Or could it?

Check out all the stuff on the internet about Project 2025 and fix yourself a stiff drink. You will need it.

 

 

 

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I confess to being an old codger and chances are that at least some of you reading this are too.  Hey, don’t apologize. Those of us who have passed 80 or are close to passing that milestone are survivors. At 82 I have outlived by six years my life expectancy of 76 when I was born in 1942. I know that life spans are also affected by gender, lifestyle, stress, genes, parenting, health, social class, race, where you were born, and plain luck. And I know that bad things happen to good people. More than half the people born in 1942 in the United States have already died. I know that I am among the lucky ones.

And just think about over the past 82 years the strides we have made and the changes for the better that have happened. We in the U.S. got rid of Jim Crow laws in the South where I grew up and have made strides in racial and gender equality and acceptance of  sexuality diversity. We have had an African American President, and women now head up major companies, as do people of color.  We have made progress by providing stronger social safety nets. In 1942 Medicare and Medicaid and the Affordable Care Act did not exist, nor did food stamps (now SNAP) or Housing Choice Vouchers or the earned income tax credit. The Allies defeated Hitler and the Axis powers in World War II and Soviet Union fell as did Maoist Communist China. For a while democracy was on the rise around the world.

And look at what we humans have invented. When I was born there were no widescreen, high definition television sets. In fact, there were no television sets. There were no jet airplanes, no cellphones, no internet, no space stations, no giant telescopes, no satellites, no EVs, and not that many cures for infectious or life threatening diseases.

Of course, the years during my lifetime have hardly been perfect. In the U.S. we made huge mistakes by getting involved in the Vietnam and Iraq Wars. Afghanistan turned out to be a disaster. Inequality and racism have persisted. The divide between the superrich and everyone else has widened. The gap between developed nations and nations with emerging economies is still large. In the U.S. life has not gotten a whole lot easier for a lot of people especially those who live from paycheck to paycheck. Gun violence and mass shootings continue. Deaths from drug overdoses are rising. Mental illness persists. Homelessness is on the rise.  We suffered through the Covid pandemic with many thousands losing loved ones. Our country has never been more divided since the Civil War. Throughout the world there is so much suffering and hateful atrocities. Think about what is happening today in Ukraine, Yemen, Sudan, Myanmar, and, of course, Gaza.

Also, when I was born there were no nuclear weapons, no drones, no artificial intelligence, and no threats about global warming due to man-made greenhouse gases. And the population of the world in 1942 was only a tad above two billion. Today it has passed eight billion.

Given how much our country and our world have changed over the last 82 years, is there anyone reading this blog who believes that we Homo sapiens on the Planet Earth will merrily go along indefinitely without a change of course?

The course we are on is unsustainable.

Some may argue that we codgers need not worry since we won’t be around to see how this movie ends. I looked up the life expectancy of someone my age—just over seven years. You could argue that we codgers have gotten off easy.  But what about our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren, and great great…. At what point does the reckoning happen?

In my recent studies of the cosmos (for a presentation that I did at our neighborhood church), I learned that over the course of the four billion years our solar system has been around, the lonely planet Earth has experienced five mass extinctions of almost all animal and plant life. These have happened about every 130-150 million years. The last mass extinction on our planet happened about 130 million years ago. According to scientists who keep track of these things we are now officially in the early stages of the Sixth Great Mass Extinction—so far mainly wildlife due to us humans destroying animal habitats. The existential question is this: Will we humans survive the Sixth Great Mass Extinction on the Planet Earth.

 

 

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I have owned a large iMac desk top computer for about six years and love it. A few days ago, an ominous sign briefly appeared on my computer screen with a lot of numbers and then vanished. Then my Microsoft Word program shut down and froze up. Not only was I unable to type anything into Word, I no longer had access to any of my Word files.

No problem, I thought, I would just call Apple Help. I have had good luck with Apple Help in the past. Someone will usually call you back within  a few minutes and they almost always speak with an American accent and know what they are doing. As usual I got a call back from a polite Apple tech woman, who listened to my problem, and to whom I gave permission to screen share. I love the screen share feature. The expert can see everything on your screen and lead you through the process of fixing what is wrong. Usually, my problem is solved effortlessly by the Apple tech person within minutes, and I move on with my day. Not this time. After directing me to try this and then do that to no avail, she checked with a supervisor and informed me that the problem was not a computer problem but a software problem–a Word problem– and since Word is a Microsoft product, not an Apple product, Apple would not be able to help me. I should call Microsoft.

Hey, I can handle that, I told her and immediately called Microsoft. I got a guy who informed me that he knew nothing about Apple computers and that I would have to go back to Apple. He said it could not be a software issue and had to be a computer issue.

Back to Apple Help. This time I got a guy who seemed to want to help me but after a few minutes admitted that if Microsoft could not help, then I would just have to accept that my Word program was permanently frozen and I would permanently lose access to my files. I pointed out that I had many thousand Word files on my computer that would be lost forever. This would likely result in my having a serious mental breakdown. He replied apologetically that nothing could be done.  I would just have to accept it.

Panic time. When I told Embry about my situation, she suggested I take the computer to the Apple store that I usually go to in Bethesda, Maryland, a neighboring suburb of DC. I clicked online to their website and called their number, a local 301 number. The person who answered asked me what state I lived in. When I told him Washington DC, he switched me to another local number, which rang but turned out to be a downtown Apple store, not the Bethesda office I wanted. The person I got this time said that yes, I could bring the computer in, convey it to them for recycling and buy a new one or that they could try to fix it, but probably would not be able to since a Microsoft software product was involved and hung up. I did not want to fight the traffic or try to find parking so I decided to stick with the Bethesda store.

 I called the Bethesda number again. This time a guy with a strong accent answered and asked me which country I was calling from. Which country? I was dialing a local area code number for goodness’ sake. I had no idea which country he was in, but by this time I had had enough and lost it. I screamed at the poor guy on the phone almost breaking down into tears. I explained the situation and told him that if someone could not figure out how to unfreeze my Word files, my whole life was ruined. I would lose several thousand, maybe several hundred thousand Word files dating all the way back to the 1980s when I purchased my first Apple II computer. Certainly, they had to be in the cloud someplace and that certainly someone could help me. He was very patient and after confirming that I lived in the United States in Washington DC. said he would make an appointment for me as I had requested at the Bethesda office—which miraculously he was able to accomplish. I was set for the next day at 10 in the morning.

Now while I like my 27-inch iMac desktop, it must weigh at least forty pounds, maybe even fifty. With great effort, I managed to lift it into a very large suitcase, put it into the back of our car and headed to the Bethesda office where I had a scheduled appointment at the Genius Bar. I staggered into the crowded store lugging the suitcase and checked in with one of the guys wearing an Apple shirt, who was greeting the customers. When asked to explain why I was there, I told him my sad story, to which he responded that I need not waste my time. Apple does not deal with customers who have Microsoft software programs, and that I should instead go to a Microsoft store.  This time I kept my composure. I was committed to seeing this through. Rather than break down in tears or let out a primal scream, I pleaded with him to allow me to see one of the geniuses even though I understood that it seemed to be a problem no one could solve. He reluctantly agreed though warned me again that it was futile. I could, however, leave my broken computer at the store and buy a new one.

After waiting patiently for about 20 minutes at the Genius Bar, I perked up when a tall guy probably in his late 20s and wearing an Apple tee shirt and jeans meandered over and agreed to take a look.

In about five minutes he had figured out what was wrong and in less than ten more minutes, had fixed it. I wanted to give him a bear hug. All that was required was deleting the old Word program and replacing it with an updated version. I celebrated by buying myself a new iPhone 15 (My old one could no longer charge.) and drove home smiling the whole way.

Just another day in the life (of an old codger).

 

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