The Morning After

It’s like a psychic hangover—for three weeks I’ve tried to tune out the noise and listen—often literally—to music instead. But it was incessant, and ultimately impossible to ignore: who, if anybody, would back down in our political game of chicken?

And what would the price be, if we went over the “fiscal cliff?” Or was it a cliff? Because some Republicans were saying that it might not be that bad a thing if all of a sudden we stopped paying on our obligations. A treasury note was supposed to be as sure as money in the bank—and then one day it wasn’t. And that wasn’t a big deal?

Still, what do I know? I know little things like speaking with a border patrol guy in the supermarket. He was working but not getting paid; I asked what he thought about the situation in Washington that had led to his lending his time to the government (he’ll get retroactive pay).

He looked hard at me, sizing me up. And it was obvious—we’re on different sides of the fence, politically.

“Children,” he said derisively. He tensed, waiting for me to rant about the Republicans.

“I’ll say,” I said. Why should I go there? He hadn’t; he had expressed a view that wasn’t an attack on an ideology.

So we had a pleasant exchange, and left cordially. Which is not the way I’m feeling today. In fact, I’m feeling battered and bruised; so much so that I tuned out the President, who was doing his best to pull everybody back on track.

And I’m thinking about my own state, which according to The New York Times is the most politically divisive state in the nation. What happened?

Well, big money moved in, for one. David Koch himself came out and said it: “We’ve spent a lot of money in Wisconsin. We’re going to spend more.” How much money? Well, 60% of the $25 million Walker raised for his recall campaign came from outside the state.

Legislation began coming in from elsewhere, instead of being crafted and drafted locally. And it often came from ALEC, the American Legislative Exchange Council, a conservative coalition of business, lobbyists, and state legislators. And they were less bills than packages: they came with strategic talking points designed to eliminate opposition. Oh, and often a smoke screen—here’s a description from The New York Times:

Pocan described an ALEC conference in New Orleans that he attended last summer. “I remember going to a workshop and hearing a little bit about a bill they did in Florida and some other states to dismantle public education,” Pocan said. “There was a proposal to provide special-needs scholarships. Lo and behold, all of a sudden I come back to Wisconsin, and what gets introduced? A bill to do just that.”

The next day, Pocan outlined a strategy ALEC advises its members to use: “You have to introduce a 14-point platform,” he said, “so that you can make it harder for them to focus and for the press to cover 14 different planks.” He pointed to several bills introduced in the past two sessions, including one that allows more children to enroll in virtual charter schools. “It sounds good,” Pocan said. “Kids could access virtual schools for home schooling. But again,” he emphasized, the real purpose is “taking apart public schools, drip by drip.”

There were the strong-arm tactics, as the discourse broke down completely. The Times spoke of the violation of the open meetings law, and mentioned a heated debate between the Assembly minority leader and Scott Fitzgerald, the Senate majority leader. Well, it was indeed—as heated as things tend to get in Wisconsin. Take a look:

Of course the whole affair ended up in court, and a state court took the very unusual step of throwing out the law banning collective bargaining for state workers, solely on the basis of the violation of the open meetings law. Later, the 7^th Circuit Court of Appeals in Chicago would overturn the ban on the ban. Meaning that Walker carried the day, and that government workers no longer have the right to bargain collectively.

So a nation sat and watched a 16-day temper tantrum, averted at the last hour, but not without a lot of damage wrought. Unnecessary damage, really—because a good fight about an important issue is one thing. But you know what? John McCain came out and said it:

“We’ve got to assure the American people that we are not going to do this again,” Mr. McCain said on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe” on Thursday. He said Republicans should “focus on the provisions of Obamacare that are not acceptable” and make sure they get “a positive agenda for the party so we can be for things rather than against things, for opening things rather than closing them.”

You learn more from your enemies than from your friends, in general, and the idea was supposed to be that the discourse sharpened the debate, and improved the product. So yes, it’s important to talk about the size of the federal government, or whether big government is the answer, or whether the economy—read jobs—is more important than the spotted snail that lives in the bottom of a tributary of a river. Oh, and nobody ever much sees the snail. Nor is the tributary navigable.

I thought about all of this yesterday, when I watched the video below—how important it was to have the fight, and to know how to fight well.

And today? Well, the one person who isn’t editorializing on the shutdown is Nicholas D. Kristof—right, so what was that about? Well, he talked about the fight to get lead removed from gasoline and paint, and the rise in intelligence levels in kids as a result of not being exposed to lead. And his bet is that the next big fight is going to be endocrine disrupting chemicals—the chemicals found in plastics and petroleum-based products. Next to me, as I read the story, was my bottle of water—which many scientists don’t allow their children to drink from. The bottling industry—hold on firmly to your chairs here—scoffs at the idea.

Who’s right, who’s wrong? Two things—we could have spent our time on that question, rather than closing down the government. And second, how are we going to fight big industries like the lead industry, the petroleum industry, or big tobacco except through government?

If you have the answer—tell me.

I’ll try to listen….

House of Turds

Well, the forts that guard the entrance to the harbor of the city of San Juan—those forts that have been open and operating for centuries—are now closed. Why? Because the national government is in a shutdown, and 800,000 people are stuck without a paycheck, all but essential services are cut, but guess what? Check out the cover of the Daily News:

Yes, the same congress that gave the middle finger to the 90% of the country who favor universal background checks for gun ownership has decided to hold the nation hostage. But let’s be real. What’s happening here?

Well, we can start with the fact that we’ve had gerrymandering of congressional districts. And what has that brought? The number of strongly Republican districts has increased, and the number of Democratic districts has decreased.

Then there are the various voting laws, the effect of which is to make it more difficult for young people, students, are minorities to vote.

But these are the symptoms—what really is going on?

“Is this about race?” asked Lady, the owner of the coffee shop I write in.

So I told her about José Serrano, who came out and said it frankly: there are people who have never accepted the fact that Obama is our president. And why is that? Pure racism. This is what Serrano told WKAQ 580, a radio station in Puerto Rico:

“‘Este grupo nunca ha aceptado que Barack Obama es un presidente legítimo, sí hay racismo, te lo dejo ahí. Hay un pequeño grupo que nunca pudo aceptar que él es un presidente legítimo y si les dolió que fuera elegido en el 2008, más les dolió la reelección’, subrayó el representante demócrata por Nueva York.”

“‘This group has never accepted Barack Obama as a legitimate president. There is racism involved there, I’ll tell you that. There’s a small group that has never accepted he’s a legitimate president, and, if they were upset by his election in 2008, his reelection upset them even more so,’ stated the Democrat for New York.”

There’s no ideology here. What is this? The terrified reaction of a bunch of rednecks who know that their world is vanishing and cannot cope with a world in which the straight white male is no longer supreme.

They know something else.

They know that they can get away with this. Why? Because the people back home will think them heroes, and the big money from special interest groups will keep flowing. In fact, they love the fact that they have shut down the government. Why? Because that’s exactly what they want—a minimal federal government that won’t interfere with them as they foul the environment, enrich the already too rich, and screw the poor.

The corporations and special interest groups have bought the statehouses.

And now they’ve shut down the federal government.

Not Your Average 11-Year Old....

I decided not to let it in. Yes, it’s totally stupid; yes, it’s destructive; yes, it’s unnecessary. But this pretty little head decided not to stress out about the government shutdown. And guess what? I also decided that if all the wise heads in Washington couldn’t avert a shutdown, then I might as well shut down too. So I went to the beach this morning, lolled in the water, and watched green palms float against an azure sky. Shutdown!

And yesterday? Well, I discovered the first opera that Mozart ever wrote—a 70-minute affair all in Latin on the story of Apollo and Hyacinth by Ovid. Mozart wrote it when he was eleven, but as the conductor, Ian Page, pointed out, you stop thinking about that. Why? Because, as you can hear in the clips below, the music is terrific. 

I came upon the opera because I had spent part of the afternoon with Philippe Jaroussky and Nuria Rial, two tremendous young singers who work remarkably well together. Jaroussky, at age 35, is in his prime as a counter tenor—and he’s thoroughly in charge of his voice, which is gorgeous. And he seems to be one of the golden boys for whom everything came easy: he started singing when he was 18, and by 20 he was a professional. And his career has soared. And just to prove how spectacularly unfair the gods can be, Philippe happens to look like this….

OK—full disclosure: all of this would be enough, ordinarily, to make me hate him. But I’m over it—I told you about that beach, didn’t I? And in many ways, not to have struggled and flopped—as I certainly did, and both—is to have missed out on some good lessons.

And yes, for anyone wondering—Jaroussky sings on my team….

And Nuria? Well, she’s Catalan, and is utterly expressive in renaissance and baroque music. And with that Jackian sense of fairness that increasingly is coming out, here she is:

At any rate, I spent yesterday afternoon busy with Rial / Jaroussky, listening to this really smashing concert. And why not? The world was spinning out of control, crisis was imminent, the wolves were howling at the door. Why not spend the afternoon with some extraordinary musicians playing some ravishing music?

In fact, I’m giving you, dear Reader, permission right now. Cancel your life for the next hour and a half, put your index finger on that arrow, and surrender to some of the most beautiful music I know. And no—don’t feel guilty! Call the boss and lie outrageously—invent an excuse. Consider all the time Victorian ladies spent having sick headaches—whole days prostate! You can take an hour and a half….

You know what? In the scope of things, not much matters except for art and music. In a hundred years, no one but a few scholars will know about the great shutdown of 2013—and very few will care. But people will still be listening to Mozart and Monteverdi, and reading, of course, Life, Death and Iguanas.

And you know what I like? These musicians just don’t force it—their playing is as free and effortless as it looks. It’s the best thing about baroque music; you don’t have to work that hard, you don’t have struggle to be heard over 100 musicians behind you, twenty or thirty of whom are blasting brass players, as you labor away at the Dvorak concerto.

Which is what I felt yesterday, as I toddled my way through a Bach suite. I remembered Joyce DiDonato working with a young singer, and telling him, “don’t worry about making a big sound, just think about creating the conditions to make a big sound….”

Right—as a very bad Buddhist, I got that. Which is why yesterday I was listening to the resonance of the instrument, and not trying to make any sound louder than that resonance. Why? Because as long as the instrument is resonating, the sound is free, and is just as loud as it needs to be. 

I played half an hour, and then put the instrument down. I’m halfway to where I was in my prime—in a couple of weeks I’ll be there. Let them buzz and do, as the poet said—I’m shutting down!