Macedonian Lives Matter

You guys would not believe what has happened. Last month, Linda asked me to transplant a rose bush in our backyard. I was out there digging a hole for the bush when my shovel hit something solid. I dug around it until I could pull it up. It was an earthen jar. Inside the jar was a scroll. On the scroll was writing in a language I could not understand.

We brought the scroll to experts at U.C. Davis, who have verified that the writing is a previously unknown dialogue written by the ancient Greek philosopher, Plato. It must have been in the possession of the previous owner of our house (a UCD professor) who forgot where he’d hidden it before he moved away.

The work has been translated. I am able to present it to you here for the first time. Enjoy.

The setting is the square in front of the amphitheater. Socrates has finished giving a lesson in philosophy to his students and is preparing to leave when he is approached by Phaedrus, a former student and longtime friend.

Socrates: Phaedrus, my dear fellow! How good to see you again!

Phaedrus: And you, Socrates, my teacher.

Socrates: But Phaedrus, you look upset. What has furrowed your brow so?

Phaedrus: Socrates, I have come from the agora. What I saw there has upset me terribly. A great wrong was done to a blameless citizen of Greece. I do not know how to make sense of the events I have witnessed.

Socrates: Tell me what you saw Phaedrus. Perhaps we can make sense of it together.

Phaedrus: I would be most grateful, my wise friend. I was just at the marketplace, where I saw a man shopping for fruit. His clothing distinguished him as a Macedonian. I saw several of our fellow Athenians eyeing him with suspicion—for what reason I do not know. When the man picked up several olives to look them over and set them back down, the merchant berated him. ‘Keep your filthy hands off my olives,’ said the merchant. ‘No Athenian will buy olives that Macedonian hands have touched.’

The man looked shocked at these words, but I fear the merchant was right. For when the Macedonian put down the olives, I saw looks of revulsion on the faces of nearby shoppers. Nevertheless, the Macedonian stood his ground. ‘I am Greek,’ said he. ‘I have as much right as any Greek to shop here, and to inspect your goods as any Greek would.’

Socrates: Indeed he does. Our laws provide for the equal treatment of all Greeks.

Phaedrus: Tell that to the Athenians I saw today! Socrates, the olive merchant was so enraged by the temerity of the Macedonian that he came out from behind his stall with a mallet, chased the man through the marketplace, and beat him to death! No one lifted a hand against the merchant.

Socrates: That is horrible!

Phaedrus: Yes, it was truly shocking. But I was equally disturbed by what happened next. Once it was clear that the Macedonian was dead, citizens of Athens who had witnessed the killing turned away and resumed their activities as if nothing had occurred. Now as it happened, the killing occurred in front of the stall of a woman selling amphorae. I turned to her and said, ‘Does this man’s life mean so little that his killing is as nothing to all who have seen it?’ She shrugged and said, ‘He was Macedonian.’ ‘But Macedonian lives matter,’ said I.

At this the woman rebuked me, saying, ‘All Greek lives matter. You should not say Macedonian lives matter, lest you denigrate the value of all other Greek lives.’ I had no response to this, and this is why I find myself so disturbed. I find no fault with the belief that all Greek lives matter—how could I? Yet it does not seem appropriate to respond to a specific crime with a statement that conveys only a general truth that is already known, and that demands no particular action. I find myself beset by confusion, Socrates. Do not Macedonian lives matter? Do not all Greek lives matter? Why is one statement made in response to the other as if they are opposites? Does the belief that Macedonian lives matter imply that others do not?’

Socrates: I understand your confusion, dear Phaedrus. Will you walk with me so that we may reason together?

Phaedrus: I would like nothing better, Socrates. But now I must visit the temple of the Oracle. My wife is with child, and I promised her I would seek the wisdom of the Oracle regarding the course of her pregnancy.

Socrates: Meet me tomorrow then, at the temple of Hephaestus. There we shall discuss this matter further.

Phaedrus: Until tomorrow, Socrates.

Socrates and his student, Phaedrus, meet on the steps of the temple of Hephaestus. There they continue the conversation begun the previous day.

Phaedrus: Good day, Socrates!

Socrates: Good day, Phaedrus. How propitious that we meet in this place. As Hephaestus molds elemental metals into objects of great strength and ingenuity, so do philosophers create strong and ingenious truths out of reason and logic.

Phaedrus: May it be so today.

Socrates: Do you remember, Phaedrus, when I first began to teach you the elements of logic?

Phaedrus: I do indeed.

Socrates: You recall, then, that we began by examining the relationships between specific things and ideas and the general categories into which they fall, in order to then discover their relationship to each other.

Phaedrus: Refresh my recollection, my teacher.

Socrates: How is the state of your farm, Phaedrus? Does it prosper? Do you still grow oranges and pine nuts there?

Phaedrus: My farm is well, and I still grow those crops. Why do you speak of such things now?

Socrates: Is it correct, Phaedrus, to say that an orange is a specific thing, and fruit is the general category into which it falls?

Phaedrus: It would seem so.

Socrates: Is it also correct that fruit can itself be described as a specific item in an even more general category; namely, produce of the earth?

Phaedrus: That is also true

Socrates: Is it further correct to say that all oranges are fruit?

Phaedrus: Yes, certainly.

Socrates: And is all fruit produce of the earth?

Phaedrus: Of course.

Socrates: Does it necessarily follow, then, that all oranges are produce of the earth?

Phaedrus: It must be so.

Socrates: Let us describe this as a general logical proposition, independent of agriculture. If all A’s are also B, and all B’s are also C, then it must follow that all A’s are C. Is that correct?

Phaedrus: I do not see how it could be otherwise.

Socrates: Nor do I. But tell me, Phaedrus, is the reverse also true?

Phaedrus: I do not follow.

Socrates: Is all produce of the earth fruit?

Phaedrus: Certainly not! My pine nuts are not fruit. Eggplants and beans are not fruit. Yet they are all produce of the earth.

Socrates: Are any of these items—pine nuts, eggplants, or beans—oranges?

Phaedrus: Of course not.

Socrates: So then, not all produce of the earth is oranges, is it?

Phaedrus: No.

Socrates: So if all A’s are also B, and all B’s are also C, all A’s are also C. But if only some A’s are B, and only some B’s are C, then we cannot say that all A’s are C, can we?

Phaedrus: No. I remember this lesson now, Socrates. It is among the first you taught me.

Socrates: Now then, Phaedrus, tell me: Is Macedonia in Greece?

Phaedrus: You know it is.

Socrates: So a Macedonian is Greek?

Phaedrus: Yes.

Socrates: Remember, Phaedrus, we said that logic is a way of establishing the relationships between things, but also of ideas. Do you think that incorrect?

Phaedrus: No, it seems correct to me.

Socrates: Would you also agree that the statement “Life matters” is an idea?

Phaedrus: That seems right. The notion that life matters might not be subscribed to by all peoples. It is an idea that animates certain belief systems and cultures, but perhaps not others.

Socrates: Now we have already established that all Macedonians are Greeks, because Macedonia is in Greece. Do you agree?

Phaedrus: Yes, we have established that.

Socrates: We might say that “Macedonian” equals “A,” and “Greek” equals “B.” So all A’s are also B, correct?

Phaedrus: I think so, yes.

Socrates: We might also call the idea that life matters “C.” So if all Macedonians are Greek, and all Greek lives matter, then all Macedonian lives matter. Is this not so?

Phaedrus: It would seem so, Socrates. Yet I find that your logic does not clarify things for me, and in fact leaves me more confused than ever.

Socrates: Tell me why you are confused, so that we may find a remedy.

Phaedrus: There are two things that trouble me. First, if all Greek lives matter, and this necessarily means that all Macedonian lives matter, than to say that all Macedonian lives matter is a necessarily correct statement. No Greek should ever be opposed to the saying of that which is necessarily true. Thus, no Greek should ever disapprove of the statement, ‘Macedonian lives matter.’ Yet some clearly do. I believe I understand the reason for their disapproval, and this leads to my second concern.

All Macedonians are Greek, but not all Greeks are Macedonian. Some are Athenian, others Spartan, still others hail from Rhodes, Corinth, or elsewhere. If I say, ‘All Greek lives matter,’ I necessarily include Macedonians. But if I say ‘Macedonian lives matter,’ I do not necessarily include all Greeks. Does my omission of other Greeks not imply that their lives do not matter? It seems legitimate to object to singling out particular Greeks for special concern while dismissing others.

This is my conundrum: It seems impossible for those who believe all Greek lives matter to object to saying that Macedonian lives matter, because no one may object to the saying of a thing that necessarily is true. Yet it also seems that saying that Macedonian lives matter implies something untrue; namely, that other Greek lives do not matter. Thus, the statement, ‘Macedonian lives matter,’ seems true and untrue at the same time. How can that be?

Socrates: I believe we can resolve your conundrum. But we have spent enough time in conversation for one afternoon. Go to your home and tend to your family and fields, and meet me here again tomorrow so that we might continue.

Phaedrus: I will see you tomorrow then.

It is the next day. From across the agora Socrates spies Phaedrus coming toward him. Socrates ends his lesson, dismisses his students, and greets Phaedrus.

Socrates: Greetings, Phaedrus. I believe we have a conundrum to resolve. Do you recall that we began our discussion by relating specific things and ideas to the general categories into which they fall?

Phaedrus: Yes, I recall.

Socrates: Are specific things identical to general categories?

Phaedrus: Of course not.

Socrates: So an orange is a fruit, but “orange” and “fruit” do not have the same meaning?

Phaedrus: No. An orange is but one example of a fruit. There are many others.

Socrates: Do you like some fruit, and dislike others?

Phaedrus: Yes, and I suppose I am like most people in that regard.

Socrates: I suppose you are. Do you like the oranges you grow, or do you grow them only for sale?

Phaedrus: I like them a great deal. On our farm, we usually keep a certain portion of the harvest for our personal use.

Socrates: I envy you your abundant supply of fresh oranges. I like oranges, too. Now tell me, Phaedrus, what do you know about my taste for grapes?

Phaedrus: Nothing. How would I know?

Socrates: Well, you know that I like oranges. Oranges are fruit. Grapes are also fruit. Does my taste for oranges mean I necessarily like grapes?

Phaedrus: No.

Socrates: Even though both are fruit?

Phaedrus: That does not determine your taste.

Socrates: Does my taste for oranges mean I dislike grapes?

Phaedrus: No.

Socrates: Even though both are fruit?

Phaedrus: Again, that tells me nothing. An orange is only one type of fruit. It may be that all fruit share certain characteristics that you enjoy. If so, you may like all fruit. But it may also be that fruits share certain characteristics but differ in other characteristics, and those differences may result in your liking some and disliking others.

Socrates: And this is because a specific thing is not identical to, or fully congruent with, the general category to which it belongs?

Phaedrus: I suppose you could put it that way.

Socrates: So, if I like all oranges, and all oranges are fruit, but not all fruit are oranges, we cannot conclude that I like all fruit.

Phaedrus: That is correct.

Socrates: Neither can we conclude from my like of oranges that I dislike any other specific fruit?

Phaedrus: Again, that is correct.

Socrates: Now, imagine that my former student, Xenophon, were here with us. Imagine that I said to you, ‘Phaedrus, I like oranges so much that I wish I had one to eat right now.’ And suppose Xenophon replied, ‘Socrates, why do you dislike grapes?’ What would you make of Xenophon’s apparent belief that I dislike grapes?

Phaedrus: I would think he had no foundation for saying any such thing.

Socrates: And that is because . . .

Phaedrus: Your taste for oranges implies nothing about whether you like or dislike grapes.

Socrates: Exactly. And so—

Phaedrus: Wait, Socrates. I think I understand. ‘Macedonian’ describes people from a specific city-state. ‘Greek’ is a more general category to which ‘Macedonian’ belongs. ‘Macedonian’ is not identical to, or exactly congruent with, ‘Greek.’ Therefore, if I say I like Macedonians, I have revealed nothing about whether I like or dislike other Greeks. If I say Macedonians are coarse in their manners or pleasing in their dress, I make no statement about the manners or dress of other Greeks. And if I say Macedonian lives matter, I do not denigrate the lives of other Greeks. To say that Macedonian lives matter is not say that the lives of other Greeks do not. It is only to assert that Macedonian lives matter in circumstances where others seem to believe Macedonian lives do not matter.

Socrates: You were always a quick student, my friend. Have we fully resolved your conundrum?

Phaedrus: Perhaps. I can see now that no one who believes that all Greek lives matter can object to the statement that Macedonian lives matter, because the former necessarily implies the latter. And I understand that saying Macedonian lives matter does not say imply any negative feelings toward the lives of other Greeks. Therefore, it is illogical to counter the statement ‘Macedonian lives matter,’ with ‘All Greek lives matter,’ because the two are not inconsistent. Thank you, my friend. You have almost put my mind at ease.

Socrates: Almost? Surely there cannot be more.

Phaedrus: Alas, Socrates, there is still one aspect of this matter that concerns me.

Socrates: My friend, it is late and I am tired. May we conclude our discussion tomorrow?

Phaedrus: Until tomorrow, Socrates.

Phaedrus and Socrates meet the following day in the agora to conclude their discussion.

Socrates: Tell me, my friend, what still troubles you about our discussions of the past few days?

Phaedrus: I understand now why it makes no sense to respond to the statement, ‘Macedonian lives matter,’ with the statement ‘All Greek lives matter.’ The former may be an important statement to make in appropriate circumstances, and the latter does not constitute a refutation. Yet the latter statement is, in fact, offered as a refutation to the former. Why? Are we Greeks so illogical that we cannot reason?

Socrates: No, Phaedrus, we Greeks are not illogical. But tell me, why do you think we study philosophy?

Phaedrus: I suppose we study philosophy so that we may know the world, and ourselves.

Socrates: That is certainly an admirable goal. But is that all? Suppose we know the world, and ourselves, and we find ourselves to be execrable. Has philosophy served its purpose in those circumstances?

Phaedrus: That seems doubtful. Philosophy must be the pursuit of knowledge in service to the virtuous life.

Socrates: I agree wholeheartedly with that definition. But tell me, would you presume to teach seafaring to the captains of the Athenian navy?

Phaedrus: No, I would not.

Socrates: Why not?

Phaedrus: Because they are already accomplished sailors and navigators.

Socrates: Would you attempt to improve the athletic skills of an Olympic champion?

Phaedrus: No, he needs no instruction from me.

Socrates: Would you try to teach farming to those whose fields overflow with the bounty of the earth?

Phaedrus: No, they are already experts.

Socrates: Why then, do we need to study philosophy?

Phaedrus: I see. We study philosophy to learn virtue. We need to learn virtue because we are not already virtuous.

Socrates: Can you name the ways in which people are not virtuous?

Phaedrus: They are so numerous that I doubt anyone could name them all.

Socrates: Too true, I am afraid. Allow me a momentary digression, Phaedrus. How are your children?

Phaedrus: They are fine, thank you. Zeno is an active and pleasant boy, and Dimitra is wise and comely.

Socrates: I seem to recall at one point that Zeno hated to eat vegetables. Is that still true?

Phaedrus: Yes, we still argue with him over his diet. He is fond of meat and fish, and he loves a crust of bread. But he turns up his nose at vegetables and will not eat them.

Socrates: Do you offer him instruction?

Phaedrus: Of course. I tell him that vegetables are important to his health.

Socrates: Why would you tell him that vegetables are important? Are not all kinds of food important?

Phaedrus: Of course they are. But he does not need encouragement to eat meat, fish, or bread. I talk to him about eating his vegetables because that is where the problem lies.

Socrates: Suppose I admonished you not to tell Zeno that vegetables are important, because to do so implies that other kinds of food are not important. What would you make of that?

Phaedrus: We have already resolved this issue. ‘Vegetables’ are a specific subset of the general category ‘food.’ Offering guidance regarding the importance of vegetables implies nothing about the value of other kinds of food. Thus, there is no logic to your position, and I would tell you so.  

Socrates: If you could not specifically address the importance of eating vegetables with Zeno, how would that matter?

Phaedrus: I would be prevented from naming and directly addressing a problem. I suppose I could address it indirectly by talking about the benefits of a balanced diet, but that would dilute the message. Zeno would not understand that I am concerned about his refusal to eat vegetables.

Socrates: I have no quarrel with what you say. But suppose I insist, in contravention to the reasoned conclusions at which we have arrived, that you must not tell Zeno specifically that eating vegetables is important. Does that seem sensible to you?

Phaedrus: No.

Socrates: Nor does it seem so to me. Tell me, Phaedrus, do you believe that we Greeks could have achieved what we have in mathematics, the arts, architecture, politics, and philosophy if we behaved in a wholly insensible manner?

Phaedrus: No, I do not.

Socrates: Tell me then, why a sensible people would insist on framing an important issue in a wholly insensible manner. Tell me why anyone would want to prevent you from talking to your son clearly and plainly about the deficiency in his diet. Tell me why people would insist that ‘All Greek lives matter’ is a sensible retort to ‘Macedonian lives matter,’ when logic and reason demonstrate that it is not.

Phaedrus: I do not believe this is a difficult question, Socrates. In your hypothetical, you would prevent me from naming and directly addressing a problem with my son by forbidding me to talk about vegetables. There must be a reason why you would do that. You must have an interest in doing so, whether or not I ascertain that interest. 

So too must there be a reason why people would prevent others from naming and directly addressing the problem that Macedonian lives do not matter in Athens by chastising them for saying that Macedonian lives do matter. I do not know what those reasons are, but I do not have to know what they are in order to see that people who act in this manner must have some interest in preventing a discussion of the problem.

Socrates: Have we now addressed your concerns in full?

Phaedrus: Yes, I believe we have. Socrates, I find myself once again in your debt. Thank you for your counsel and instruction.

Socrates: I believe we have reached the end of our discussion. My students are waiting for me to engage them in today’s lesson. Please give my regards to your dear wife, and I pray to the gods that we may see each other again soon.

Bostock v. Clayton County, Explained

Yesterday the United States Supreme Court ruled that homosexual and transgender people are protected from discrimination under Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Many did not expect this result given the Court’s conservative majority. The crux of the issue in Bostock and the companion cases was whether Title VII’s prohibition against discrimination on the basis of sex covers sexual orientation and gender identity. (Although there has been much discussion in the popular press about the use and meaning of the word “sex” in the statute, the Court gave that word its ordinary meaning circa 1964: status as either male or female as determined by reproductive biology.) What surprises me the most about yesterday’s decisions is that the Court’s reasoning is not the reasoning the plaintiffs had urged it to adopt. In fact, the rulings are so laughably simple that I have to wonder if anyone saw this coming.

The employers in yesterday’s cases admitted that they fired the plaintiffs because of sexual orientation or transgender status. They simply argued that Title VII does not forbid their actions.

Plaintiffs were trying to extend reasoning first adopted in Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins. Ann Hopkins was an associate at Price Waterhouse who was denied partnership despite having an exemplary work history and a substantial book of business. When she asked male partners the reasons for their decision, they explained that it had nothing to do with her work. She was too aggressive, didn’t act feminine enough, and didn’t dress or style her hair the way they believed a woman should. She sued. Price Waterhouse contended that it could not be guilty of sex discrimination because it had made partners of other women who conformed to their expectations.

Hopkins won. She successfully argued that an employer discriminates on the basis of sex if it conditions employment on conformance to standards of appearance or conduct that are based on gender stereotypes. Thus, it didn’t matter that Price Waterhouse elevated other women to partnership. What mattered was that a woman would only be considered for partnership if she was the “right kind” of woman, and the employer’s notion of what constituted the “right kind” of woman was based on sexist stereotypes.

The plaintiffs in yesterday’s cases were trying to extend the reasoning of Hopkins. They claimed they were fired because they weren’t the “right kind” of men and women as defined by stereotypical ideas about gender norms, and thus could seek redress under Title VII even though the law wasn’t specifically written to cover homosexuality and transgender.

The Court didn’t bite. It declined to address gender stereotypes or the changing perceptions of gay and transgender people. In fact, in a certain sense it didn’t address the rights of gay and transgender people at all. Instead, the Court reasoned as follows: Employees A and B are both attracted to women. Employee A is a man; he can stay. Employee B is a woman; she’s fired. The only distinction between A and B is their sex. It’s okay for A to be attracted to women because he’s a man. It isn’t okay for B because she’s a woman. That’s discrimination on the basis of sex. Boom, we’re done.

The same reasoning applies to transgender employees. Behavior that is tolerated in one employee because she was born female is not tolerated in another because she was born male. That distinction—sex—is the basis for distinguishing between them. That’s sex discrimination. Boom, we’re done.

There’s a sense in which the simplicity of this argument is brilliant. It is simply beyond argument that the defendant employers tolerated behavior in other employees that they did not tolerate in the plaintiffs, and the reason for the disparate treatment is the sex of the employees. The logic of the decisions is unassailable.

But it’s also narrow. The Court made no broad declarations about the rights of gay and transgender people. It did not find that they have been subject to a history of invidious discrimination. Thus, it did not define them as a protected class such that constitutional claims under the Due Process or Equal Protection clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment will receive special attention. In fact, it did not decide any constitutional claims at all. Yesterday’s cases were brought under a federal statute. Congress can amend that statute if it pleases, although it probably won’t. The Court did not find that Congress intended Title VII to cover gay and transgender people. It did not find that the needs of gay or transgender employees must be accommodated in any way that does not involve disparate treatment on the basis of sex. For this reason, yesterday’s rulings are a significant victory for gay and transgender people. But it is an incomplete victory, and it does not represent full equality under the law.

Black Lives Matter. Damn Right They Do

I watch the news and see footage of the protests. I go online and read the blowback: “Why do black people complain about every little thing?” (Apparently murder is a little thing.) “Why does everything have to be about race?” (Apparently being murdered because of your race is about . . . something else.) I see the video of police officers advancing on demonstrators who are standing still and pepper-spraying them for no reason. I have seen this before.

Fifty-seven years ago, a poet asked, How many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just doesn’t see? Fifty-seven years! And still we turn our heads and pretend.

People are angry. That’s good; anger is a great source of energy for those who would effect change. Me, I’m angered out. I’m too old for this. The things that used to make me angry now just make me want to weep. Everything we’re talking about in these days we’ve already talked about. The lessons we are pledging to learn today we were supposed to have learned long ago. Why didn’t we? Will we ever?

Get up, stand up. Stand up for your rights.

These words should be relics of a different time. They should be nostalgic. They should not be relevant today. We should know better now. Instead, we make the same mistakes over and over and over again. Then we’re surprised by the consequences. Then we pretend nothing happened.

I see so much white anger at being made to face ugly truths—so much denial. Then the Idiot-in-Chief tweets that Confederate names on military bases symbolize the great American tradition of “Winning, Victory, and Freedom!” I’m pretty sure those are three words you can’t associate with the Confederacy. Losing, defeat, and slavery? Sure thing. Those seem to be the opposites of winning, victory, and freedom, though. I used to wonder if he knew who won that war. Now I’m not convinced he even knows who fought it. Still, I’m sure his base reads that tweet and thinks, “Right on, bro.” After all, history is for weak-kneed Euro girly-men.

And you tell me over and over and over again, my friend, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Sometimes I think we need to be more German. Education about the Holocaust is mandatory in Germany. There is no evasion, no turning away. German students are taught, “We did this. Not someone else. Not some long-dead ancestors who aren’t us. Don’t ever believe we’re not capable of monumental evil. Look at what we’ve done. We could do it again if we forget.”

We enslaved people. When we weren’t allowed to do that anymore, we used law and government to dehumanize them, make them invisible, and impoverish them for another hundred years. Now that we aren’t allowed to do that anymore, we deny we ever did it, or claim it doesn’t matter anymore. And still we dehumanize them as thugs and predators so that we can kill them in the street with impunity. Don’t ever believe we’re not capable of monumental evil. Look at what we’ve done.

Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swingin’ in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin’ from the poplar trees

Minneapolis is not a Southern city. Neither is Cleveland (Tamir Rice). Neither is New York (Eric Garner). This is not someone else’s problem.

I don’t want to relive my youth. It doesn’t thrill me to listen to old protest songs and think that we finally get to feel that sense of purpose again. No, I just wonder why we don’t learn—why it is so important to resist learning.

Around and around we go. We protest and organize and write letters and run candidates, and still we end up right back where we started. Fifty-seven years later, we have to ask again: How many deaths will it take ‘til they know that too many people have died?

Kaep was Right. He’s Still Right.

This is the state of our country: According to CNN, there are as many National Guard members activated in the U.S. right now as there are active duty troops in Iraq, Syria and Afghanistan.

Maybe, just maybe, Colin Kaepernick had something to say that the country should have been willing to hear. Maybe, just maybe, if he hadn’t been run out of town we wouldn’t be where we are now.

Denial, goes the old saying, is a river in Egypt. Except that it isn’t a river at all. It’s the road that runs straight to hell, and we’re awfully far down that road. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to turn around.

The Speech That Should Be

“My fellow Americans:

“On this Memorial Day we remember the many thousands of American men and women who answered the call of their country and gave their lives to preserve and defend the greatest experiment in self-government the world has ever known. We recall and honor their ultimate sacrifice, and as we do so we cannot help but also recall the sacrifices made on the home front by those who were not directly engaged on the front lines, but who nevertheless felt themselves part of a great struggle in which they were called upon to do everything in their power to support the men and women fighting on the field of battle.

“Today we are engaged in another great struggle that tests our character as a nation and as a people. Our adversary does not hate us—for it is not human—and thus it cannot be made to abandon hatred or change its ways. It has no flesh and no face, and thus does not care how similar are the pigments of our skins or the features of our faces. It does not think, and thus cannot be deterred by any rational calculation. The adversary we face today exploits a fundamental characteristic of the human condition—our need for the company and society of other human beings. That need makes us vulnerable to a virus that exploits our social nature to propagate and to kill its hosts.

“It is precisely because we are being attacked at a point of such vulnerability that we must now summon a strength and unity that eludes us in happier, more pacific times. For this virus can only be defeated if we have the strength to persevere in the measures necessary to allow our front-line health care workers to do their jobs without being overwhelmed with new patients. It can only be defeated if we act with the unity of purpose that ensures we Americans not only keep ourselves safe, but that we protect the safety of our neighbors and our communities, as well. It can only be defeated if we understand that we all stand together or we all fall separately.

“Whatever differences we have in happier times do not matter now. Those differences are a luxury of sorts. A people secure in their health and wellbeing may squabble over economic policy or public morality. But a people engaged in a life or death struggle must be singularly focused on survival—their own, that of their neighbors, and that of their larger communities. When the battle for survival is won, we may indulge our grievances and resume our arguments. But for now, we must give meaning and effect to the name our founders gave us. We must be the United States of America.

“Memorial Day calls upon us to remember that our wars were most often fought by people who were not professional soldiers. Often they were not volunteers. Yet, in every conflict, they summoned the courage to overcome the hardships they were called upon to endure, and to surmount the challenges they faced. Not for one moment do I doubt the courage and dedication of our health-care workers who serve on the front lines of our current struggle day in and day out. Often they do so at the cost of their own wellbeing—sometimes at the cost of their lives. Yet they do not falter.

“Americans on the home front have always rallied to support those on the front lines. We have sacrificed our creature comforts and conveniences so that resources could be dedicated to the fight. We have done without because we knew the sacrifice was temporary—but also because we knew that success was vital.

“It is no less vital now. Americans are no less dedicated to victory and no less committed to the proposition that a free and fractious people will close ranks and stand as one when a threat appears from over the horizon. We may gripe about our desire for a haircut, or a manicure, or an evening out. But we know that these are small sacrifices to make so that weary doctors and nurses can end their shifts and return to their families. We may complain about having to wear a face mask, but we know that it is far easier to do so than to keep our national economy closed. We know that we can do these things for each other and for our nation. We know that when we tell our children about the Pandemic of 2020, we want to be able to tell them we did our part.

“I believe in the resolve and compassion of the American people. I believe that as our health care professionals and our state leaders decide how much we can reopen our country, and how fast, we will listen carefully. Together, we will ensure that all are safe and prosperous. Together, we will win this struggle and emerge stronger than before. On this Memorial Day, let us consecrate the sacrifices made by those whom we honor today by rededicating ourselves to the American experiment with a renewed spirit of national purpose and an unflinching commitment to this common cause. Thank you.”

Death by Chocolate Chip

Among my wife’s many redeeming qualities is a splendiferous singing voice. (She’s an alto.) Our local university has availed itself of her talent by inviting her to serenade audiences in its campus-community chorus. As a result, I have spent many an evening at the Mondavi listening to performances of music that I occasionally liked and regarding which I more often gave thanks that I never belonged to a religion that made me sit through such stuff. Regardless, I am an attentive and dutiful husband; what interests her interests me. Thus, when her director asked her to host a social gathering for the chorus in our home, I readily agreed and negotiated a suitable amount of time during which I was required to socialize and after which I could hide in our bedroom with my iPad and earbuds.

In preparation for the event, Linda baked cookies for one hundred people, give or take. Chocolate chip and peanut butter. Into the freezer they went, once she had extracted a promise from me not to conduct my usual raiding forays. (Although this should not need to be said, I do not steal cookies. Some escape, and others are liberated. This is not theft.) Then a relative of the director took ill, and the event was postponed. Then a pandemic swept the country, the chorus went on leave until the fall, and gatherings of any sort were verboten.

I said to Linda, “When this thing is rescheduled in the fall, are you really going to want to serve cookies that have been in the freezer for months?” She allowed as how she’ll probably want to start fresh.

I am midway through the fourth tin. This is a dangerous endeavor in a nation bereft of toilet paper. It’s a race against time, really. Will the stores restock before I finish two more tins? After two more tins, will I be able to hold my hands steady enough to operate a motor vehicle and drive to the store? Is the sugar rush worth the jitters and double vision? Okay, that last one’s easy.

These are tough times. Tough times call for tough measures. Tough measures and warm, gooey, chocolatey joy. Tell me I’m wrong. Actually, don’t bother; after the next tin the words will just slide off the page in front of my quivering, spasming eyeballs anyway.

An American in London

Here is the statement I’d like to see issued by Harry and Meghan, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex:

“We would like to thank the people of Great Britain for your support during this difficult time. That said, guess what? We’re not animals in your fucking petting zoo. In fact, you people have things completely backwards. If a fucking mail carrier can marry whomever he wants but a duke cannot, what the hell is the point of being a duke? It’s supposed to be better to be royal than to be common, remember? It’s supposed to confer a certain privilege.

“Oh wait, you’re gonna tell us how good we have it because we’re rich? Then you’re going to turn around and tell us we’d better behave the way you’d like or you’ll cut off our support? You’re our subjects, not the other way ‘round. You might want to remember that.

“So here’s the four-one-one: We’re going to do whatever the hell we want, and you’re going to suck it up and deal. If Grandma objects, maybe we’ll go raise an army in France and take the crown, like they used to do in the good old days. If you commoners object, you can raise your own army and we’ll give it a go. Because this is how monarchy works, people. Someone wins and someone gets their head chopped off, and the people with heads make the rules. Peace out.

“Sincerely,

“The Duke and Duchess of Sussex

“P.S.: God save the fucking Queen.”

Somewhere in my Youth or Childhood . . .

. . . I must have done something good.

Days like today are the best days. Linda’s apple streusel pies are made, and the pumpkin chiffon pies are in progress. She’s made most of the appetizers, including my favorite, peppers Provençal. Yesterday, I prepped the bourbon sweet potatoes (purple!), and our friend Amy prepped the roasted root vegetables with hot honey butter and lime. Today we’ll get to work on the turkey with bacon-cider gravy, cranberry-walnut relish, and other dishes. Between family and friends, we’ll have everything from curried butternut squash soup to sautéed spinach and pancetta to maple cheesecake with vanilla whipped cream and tart apple compote.

My younger son spent an hour or so out in the yard with the leaf blower. “The good thing about having people over at five o’clock,” says Linda, “is that it’s dark already. They won’t see what a mess the yard is.” That my son would fly across the country for this holiday and cheerfully help with yard work is progress of a sort we would not have expected a few years ago. We won’t have as much of my side of the family as usual this year, but between friends and Linda’s relatives we’re still seating nineteen for dinner. And get this: everyone genuinely likes everyone else.

Last night, with our work done for the day, we kicked back and tested various methods of spiking eggnog.

I’ve known lean years and hard times. Sleepless nights and agonizing choices are old companions of mine. But if that’s what it took to get to these days, then it was all worth it. I have family, friends, love, and affection in abundance now. I treasure the people in my life, though sometimes I wonder what they’re doing here and why they stick around. It isn’t all butterflies and Fudgesicles, but it’s close.

My father says that if you have luck, you don’t need brains or talent. I don’t know if what I have now is luck or something else, and I don’t care. It’s more than enough for me.

Home of the Brave

We toured Fort McHenry today. You know Fort McHenry as the fort bombarded by the British during the War of 1812. It’s where Francis Scott Key was inspired to write the Star Spangled Banner. Later, it was used as a training ground and prison for Confederate soldiers and sympathizers during the Civil War.

To say the exhibits at this National Historic Monument and Shrine are problematic is an understatement. In one building, for example, is an exhibit entitled: “Lincoln: Statesman or Despot?” It discusses the fact that President Lincoln suspended the writ of habeas corpus early in the war and imposed military rule in Maryland in order to quash secessionist activity. The writ was later restored. Lincoln did what he did because the nation’s capital would have been indefensible had Maryland seceded.

Historians consistently rate Lincoln as the greatest President in the history of this country. We should remember and teach his legacy objectively, including the extra-constitutional measure of suspension of the writ. But it is lunatic to suggest that he was a despot. It is unbalanced. It is not scholarship. It is not history.

There’s more. The exhibits at Fort McHenry lionize Key and the Star Spangled Banner. That’s understandable. But most people don’t know that the poem/song has four verses, of which we only sing one. The third verse addresses the British attempt to sow disorder and win the war by offering to free American slaves who abandoned their masters and fought for Britain. Some slaves accepted the offer. In the third verse Key looked forward with glee to murdering them after the war:

  • No refuge could save the hireling and slave
  • From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
  • And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
  • O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
  • Nice.

    The exhibits at Fort McHenry gloss over this grotesquerie, noting only that the words were inspired by Key’s anger at the British invasion. The meaning of the words is completely ignored, while in other places exhibits strain to give the impression that the few free blacks who fought for the U.S. somehow proved that the armed forces were integrated and inclusive.

    I suppose you could say that the unbalanced nature of this exhibit is explained by its location in Maryland and a consequent desire to appease the local population. But that only begs the question of why we, as a nation, are still trying to appease white supremacists who describe their racism as “southern culture” and “heritage.” For too long, we have taught that the Civil War was caused by political disagreements between people who were otherwise good, loyal, honorable, and decent Americans. This is patently untrue. The war was a contest between good and evil, between freedom and slavery, between the idea that liberty and bondage were incompatible and the idea that African-Americans were, in the words of Chief Justice Roger Taney, “of an inferior order and altogether unfit to associate with the white race, either in social or political relations, and so far inferior that they had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.”

    Our weak-kneed attempt to be “fair” to the Confederate cause has brought us to where we are today: a place where a national monument questions the legitimacy of our greatest President. A place where a President can describe white supremacists as “fine people” and shrug off violence between them and counter-protestors by saying there were “good people on both sides.” Imagine if we taught that Hitler and the Nazis were good Germans who had legitimate grievances after World War I; they just took those grievances too far or expressed them poorly. We don’t teach that. We teach that Naziism was, and is, pure evil. We teach that no legitimate grievance or economic dislocation could have justified it. When we teach about World War II, we call good and evil by their true names. We do not hesitate.

    The descendants of those who fought for slavery and racism should be ashamed of the actions of their ancestors. They should not still be waving Confederate flags. They do so only because the rest of us have shied away from compelling them to face the reckoning that Germans were not spared after their descent into barbarity. This is cowardice. It is moral relativism at its worst. It needs to stop.

    Relentless Forward Progress

    Somewhere around mile twenty four, I saw someone in an orange vest behind me. My legs were cramping and my feet were blistered. Thank God, I thought, The race sweeper. I’m the last one out here. He’ll pull me off the course and end this sufferfest.

    It was just another runner in an orange vest. Shit. I had to keep moving.

    I’m nobody’s idea of an athlete. Slow, uncoordinated, nearsighted, with poor balance and prone to weight gain, I was always the last kid picked for any team in school. I was something of a Renaissance man, which is to say I sucked at every sport. Now I’m getting old, and my never-very-good best days are behind me.

    But I can run, because any able-bodied person can run, so that’s what I do. Not fast, and not gracefully, because I’m built like an undersized linebacker. But I run.

    I don’t love it. I’m perfectly happy on the couch with a plate of warm chocolate-chip cookies. Besides, running puts me in the company of people who are younger, faster, more athletically accomplished, and more beautiful than I. It twangs and strums the strings of my insecurities. But it’s necessary for health and fitness, so I run.

    It has its benefits. It’s a pretty satisfying feeling when you defy others’ expectations to do things no one thought you could do. It’s something else entirely when you do things you didn’t believe you could do. Suddenly, the light goes on. That voice in your head that says, “I can’t?” It’s just a wuss who doesn’t want to try. You won’t listen to it next time. You know now that the voice lies. You will do all the hard things, and you won’t make excuses, and you won’t listen to your own doubts and fears, because they were bullshit last time and they’re bullshit this time. If you choose to walk away from a challenge—well, that’s a choice, and you’ll own it. There is no such thing as “I can’t.”

    At mile twenty seven, I knew I’d make it to the aid station at mile twenty nine.

    Sometimes I ask the important people in my life to do hard things, because sometimes life requires the doing of hard things. Beyond that, I want them to know that their own voices that say “I can’t” are just as wrong as mine. How can I make that ask if I’m not willing to push myself to accomplish things I think are beyond me? I will not be that guy who asks of other people what he will not risk himself. I will not be that man who seeks to control a woman to compensate for feelings of disempowerment that the world foists upon him. There’s a lot of that in today’s world, and it isn’t my way.

    At the aid station at mile twenty nine, it became unthinkable to drop out less than two miles from the finish. I’d get there if I had to crawl.

    I will do the difficult things in life that I don’t want to do. I will do them even if they hurt. I will not quit despite wanting nothing more than for someone to give me permission to quit. I will lead by example, not by diktat. The people to whom I mean something will say, “If Jeff can do what he does, I guess I have no excuses.”

    The barbecue at the finish line warmed my insides and restored some brain function. I looked at the finisher’s medal in my hand. Is this mine? Did I really do this?

    Life gives you plenty of opportunities to sit out a challenge. But the true adventure begins at the edge of the known world; that is, just beyond what you believe to be the limit of your capabilities. Somewhere past that point are things you’ve never seen and can’t imagine. Someone has to bring back reports of what’s out there. Why not me? Why not you?