For the second time in my life, someone close to me has dementia. No, I’m not trying to be funny. I’m being serious and it’s depressing. I don’t know much about the disease but seeing how debilitating it is when it strikes someone you love is about the most hopeless of all feelings. In many ways, this person is like their former selves and she’s home but the lights aren’t on. I like to think what is going through their minds may not seem like anything coherent to us but to them there is a sense of peace until their dying day.  I have to think that way or else it is just too goddamn sad.

I’d like to think while their body slowly deteriorates, their minds relive every happy moment like a perpetual flashback of life. My loved one with dementia will say something heartwarming and giggle non-stop. There are no more tears except my own and those closest to her.  She seems extremely happy but her gaze is vacant, distant, as if in another place mentally.  But let’s be honest, I know she is but a mere shadow of her former self.

The reality of caring for an individual in this state is extremely difficult – physically, financially, and emotionally. What do you do? How do you pay for constant care? It is hard to feel anything but despair and hopelessness. The person you knew, you loved, is never coming back, will never be able to carry on an intelligent conversation again and will live out their days with a daily loss of dignity.

Most seriously of all, you don’t want dementia to happen to you. I’ve started taking Magnesium supplements because I’ve learned low levels of this mineral may cause Alzheimer’s. I’ve started meditating because another root cause is a lack of sleep. I’ve had insomnia for years and, while taking Melatonin does help, the real root cause of my sleeplessness is stress. Mentally, I need to slow down and meditation has helped a lot to put my mind at ease. But, this post isn’t about me. It’s about seeing someone you love slowly, mentally and physically, decline before your very eyes and you know there’s nothing you can do about it.

So, I try to stay positive and put on a brave face and think about what it would be like to be inside a demented person’s head. I hope inside her mind all of the memories of pain and suffering she went through have vanished and only the happiest thoughts remain. Gone are the worries and the anger and the disappointments. I’m not at all suggesting this existence is anything but tragic. I’m only hoping for the best when I know the best has come and gone and is now only a distant memory.

I’ve had a wonderful 4 weeks of paid vacation. With just a week until the end of my Sabbatical, I’m feeling kind of blue. There’s no reason for this. It just is what it is. I mean not too many folks can get this kind of a break from work, so I shouldn’t complain. I needed the break but I’m not ready to get back to the job.  How crazy is that?

The first week went by almost like a blur.  I played three baseball games, worked out, went to a couple of Hillsboro Hops games, and finalized all of the details of our Mexico City trip.

We spent the next two remarkable weeks in the capital city of Mexico.  We did so much visiting all of the top sites including:  the Templo Mayor ruins, Zocalo, the Metropolitan Cathedral, the Palacio Nacional, including the death bed of Benito Juarez and murals of Diego Rivera depicting the history of Mexico, Museo Nacional de Antropologia, La Casa Azul, Leon Trotsky Museum, NIKE Store, Teotihuacan, Pyramids of the Sun and Moon, Bosque de Chapultepec, Diablos Rojos Mexican League baseball game, Museo Mural of Diego Rivera, Museo de Tequila y Mezcal, the city of Coyoacan, including Frida Kahlo Park, the Museo Tamayo, Museo de Arte Moderno and saw original works by Diego and Frida, Monumento a los Ninos Heroes, the Palacio de Bellas Artes and got caught in a downpour, the La Merced Mercado, the towns of Cholula and Puebla and drove by the historic battlefield memorial, the remarkable Museo Dolores Olmedo and Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo.  We were disappointed in the Mercado San Angel but toured the El Carmen Convent, and our last day was topped off by a visit to the Soumaya Museum.  Oh, the street tacos, spicy corn on the cob, and churros is the food I’ll miss the most.  We survived a 2.9 earthquake and the subsequent move from the 19th to the 7th floor.  And the concierge desk help of Montserrat and Julian survived us.  They both were great help with local restaurant suggestions and booking the tours to the pyramids, La Casa Azul, and to Puebla.

Week 4 was back home to California with a first stop in the Bay Area for a couple of days and then a romantic 4 days in Napa.  We witnessed one of the greatest comebacks in San Francisco Giants history with a 13-inning walk off HR by none other than Pablo Sandoval.  Panda who burned a bridge when he left the team for Boston in 2015.  Disgraced after a dismal, 2.5 years in a Red Sox uniform, the Giants picked him up in 2017 midway through the season and he’s been a super sub ever since.  Always a beloved Giant because he plays the game like a kid.  We were so excited, I bought tickets for the game the next day.  Alas, lightning doesn’t strike twice as we lost to the Cubs but still won 2 out of 3 from Chicago.  We preceded the 2nd Giants game with a tour of Coit Tower.  What an incredible view of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges and of Alcatraz Island and the Pyramid building and Chinatown.  Gosh, San Francisco is a special place with so many fond memories for both Bon and me.  I proposed at The Top of the Mark.  That 2nd night in the City let us get to El Granada for dinner with my brother Tom and his 1st born son, Marc, and Marc’s wife Kara.  It was a great opportunity to re-connect though these times with family are always too short.

By Thursday, we were ready to travel to Napa and drink great wine at some of our favorite wineries like Silver Oak, Hall, Titus, Mumm, Stag’s Leap, and Darioush.  So, good.  We ate hamburgers and ice cream cones at Gott’s and devoured the ‘free’ breakfast at Rancho Caymus Inn.  They’d redone the place since we were last there and the owners spared no expense.  They thought of everything from the free bottle of wine to welcome us, to the iron and tissue box.  DirecTV and wide screen TV.  The bed was incredible.  

Well, perhaps after retelling the tale of where we’ve been the last 4 weeks, I guess I can see now why I’m feeling down.  I don’t want the fun to end.  I don’t think this is how retirement will be but, gosh, what if it were?  I’d never be blue again!  

With a week to go, I must not check work e-mail.  Must not check work e-mail.  Must not check work e-mail.  I’ll survive without working.  In fact, if nothing else this fantastic break has convinced me I have so much more to do than work at NIKE.

I will finish off my career probably after my next Sabbatical in 5 years. It will be my last one and something very well deserved. I thought the end of working would never come but the sight of retirement is on the horizon and the ultimate sabbatical!

Friend, you know how much I loath President Pinocchio. Yet another group of Americans suffering from his inept leadership is farmers. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, “in 2018 farmers lost $9.1 billion and total farm debt rose to $410 billion, the highest in nearly 40 years!” USA Today stated in a recent story, “Trump’s trade war will put farmers further underwater.” No one wins a trade war. And, so I realized rather quickly that I better get cracking with my own garden before there ain’t no more farmers left to grow food for me.

So, last weekend, I planted my summer garden. Tomatoes, Basil, Shishito Peppers, Zucchini, Cucumber, and Marigold plants entered the earth I toiled in the 3 new planter boxes on the North side of my backyard. The newly installed sprinkler system works to perfection, so that task is automated. Now, the worst part. The waiting. It seems forever at this stage of the process until what you plant literally bears fruit. Do our farmers get this anxious?

It’s a cliche to say there’s nothing better to eat than a fresh tomato but it’s true. The plants are relatively easy to grow as long as you have good soil, plenty of water, and sun. Tomatoes crave sunlight and these plants are going to get it. I’m growing Beefsteak and Roma. Two of my favorites. We’ll be swimming in tomatoes before you know it. Unlike everything these days, there is no instant gratification. Instead of checking in on my plants every night I come home from work, I should just let nature take its course and check back in two months. Kind of like the farmers who trusted President Tweet, only they’re the pawns in his trade negotiations with China.

After visiting Italy for the first time in 2014, we refell in love with Pesto. That summer, when we visited Cinque Terre we couldn’t help but notice all of the Basil plants growing on window sills of the homes of Corniglia. These local farmers have nothing to worry about from their political leadership. They’re growing it for themselves.

One of the beautiful things about YouTube is you can learn how to do just about anything. I didn’t know how to make pesto. So, I took a quick online course on what it took to make this delectable green sauce. So easy to make! With only Basil, Pine Nuts, Garlic, Parmigiano, and Olive Oil as ingredients and a blender, even a knucklehead like me can make it. Oh, and last summer, I did. This year, however, I’ve got 3 more plants than last year. We’ll be making the shit out of pesto before long. The greatest thing about basil, is if you pinch off the leaves, they grow back! Heck, my lack of patience loves this plant. I won’t have to wait 60 days before enjoying it. So far, our famers have been waiting 2 years. How long will they have to wait until markets are open again?

Our friend Linda introduced us to Shishito peppers, according to Wikipedia, a sweet, East Asian variety. I’ve never grown these before but I’m looking forward to yielding a bumper crop. The little peppers are delicious to eat. Saute them in olive oil, a little salt and pepper and they’re the perfect appetizer. Not filling but delectable and healthy! These little 3″-5″ buggers aren’t spicy and shouldn’t take too long before I can harvest them. It should be fun. All our farmers want is trade with foreign markets. Thanks to the trade war, all their harvest is doing is rotting.

It’s probably been 30 years since I last tried to grow zucchini or cucumbers in a garden. They take up too much space and are really hard to grow but, heck, we love ’em and I had to give it the old college try again. I dedicated one bed to these 2 plants which should be plenty of room for them to grow and flourish. Only time will tell but it’s so hard to wait. Just ask our Farmers.

I check for even the smallest amount of growth and proudly report out to Bon and Margarita when something blooms. I take care of these plants almost as if they’re my little babies and I bark at the dog if he even looks at the vegetables funny. Last year, he bit off the buds of every marigold and I nearly killed him. I think his maturity level is better this year and he’ll stay away from Papa’s plants. At least he’s not up in the bed urinating like the Tweeter is to our trading partners.

The funny thing about gardening is when I forget about it for a few days, a week maybe, voila the plants seem to explode and we have enough goodies to feed the whole neighborhood. I think every kid should learn how to grow plants. There’s not a more useful skill, in my view, than to learn how to be a farmer. Heck, we all got to eat. Why not learn how to grow food? It’s a better life skill than Tweet Storms, just ask our President.

Besides, if President Tweet continues his fruitless negotiations with China, we may not have any farmers left at all. In his mind, you can rely on no one but yourself.

Opening Day for the San Francisco Giants is tomorrow, March 28, 2019 at 1:10 pm PST in San Diego, CA. It is only befitting of my beloved Giants that I dedicate this blog post to my team. MY TEAM! The GIANTS! For over 40 years, I’ve literally lived and died by the successes and failures of this team. I cried during the World Series failures of 1989 and 2002. I also wept during the victories in 2010, 2012, and 2014. Never did I imagine myself getting so emotional about a ballclub. And, yet, with each passing season I cannot help myself believe in the beauty of the game and the hope each season brings. Even in the down years, I believe. It is indeed the very epitome of life to see the possibility of good every year. My Cabernet
Sauvignon fueled brain can also sense the great.

I was holding my grandmother’s hand when I first walked into a professional baseball stadium. Ironically, it was Dodger Stadium in the late 1960’s and I was immediately awestruck. I don’t remember much about the game except the Dodgers were playing the Montreal Expos and it was a critical moment in my life. Before my eyes there was this glorious sight of green grass, red clay dirt, and the 76 Gas Station insignia beyond the right center field fence. At the time, and perhaps still to this day, it was the only gas station at a major league stadium. The place looked magical to me and the memory has forever stuck in my minds eye. Better than an amusement park, a cathedral, a movie set, it was a magical place where belief was suspended and incredible things could and did happen. Not long after this game, my family and Grandma moved to Santa Cruz and then the San Francisco Bay Area and I experienced similar sights at Oakland-Alameda Coliseum and Candlestick Park when I first saw those baseball fields. To say an electric current ran up my spine when I witnessed those diamonds for the first time would be an understatement.

The sounds of a baseball hitting a bat are distinct and unmistakable if you know what to listen for. For example, I can tell when a ball hits an aluminum bat, is hard vs. softly hit, and when the ball is going over the fence. If you listen closely, you can too. If you ever go to a ballgame with me, I’ll say, that’s a home run and I haven’t even looked up from my mobile phone. Oh, but there are so many other sounds of the game like when the infielders shout out to the outfielders how many outs there are or when a catcher will call out with first to third which play to run. Another favorite is the sound of a pitched ball against the catchers mitt. A loud pop usually means this guy can really throw it. I love to hear the cries of encouragement from the 3rd base coach or from the dugout or from the infield and sometimes even from the outfield. The game is full of sounds and even if you’ve never played you can close your eyes and ‘see’ what’s going on. Oh, the distinct sound of ball on helmet or even flesh is something that shivers your timbres. All you have to do is listen to hear if the player is OK.

Oh, there’s a scent of baseball and it’s not testicular sweat. Nor, is it garlic fries, popcorn, or peanuts. The smell of baseball is freshly cut grass, new uniforms, lint free, right out of the dryer, tickling your nose like a new car and pine tar. Yes, pine tar, the sticky stuff you put on the bat handle to keep it from slipping out of your hands after a hard swing just like the sap on your hands from a new 2 x 4. Baseball smells like Copenhagen, Skoal and Red Man, fresh out of the can or pouch. The smell of a new baseball mitt is distinctly heroic and makes my fingertips tingle because it feels like I’m about to make the most famous catch of my life. Locker rooms have a distinct odor and it’s not just of maleness. It’s athletes odor of perspiration and inspiration. Ballplayers stink but it’s not a negative smell. It’s distinct with the possibility of greatness.

The taste of baseball is mostly of sweat but it’s so much more than that. When a ball smacks you right in the mouth from a pitch, bad hop, or errant throw, the blood fills your mouth and you know, deep down, when you spit out, you gain instant respect. Chewing tobacco, depending on the brand, has a unique taste not all of which is a good flavor. Fondly, I think of salty sunflower seeds, my go to power food, whenever I’m playing baseball. I can never get enough. They create a wicked mess but there may not be a greater food. As a ballplayer, I can’t think of any other tastes. As a fan, there may not be a greater flavor than that of a hot dog or a sausage, freshly grilled, with Gulden’s mustard, onions and peppers. When I die, I think I will in eternity eat a Candlestick Park Polish Sausage filled with these goodies.

Have you ever stood on a baseball field and looked back at the stands and not felt a twinge of pride, excitement, and performance anxiety? If you haven’t, too bad. There is not a better feeling than to touch with your toes the outfield, the infield, the pitcher’s mound, and the batters box. With spikes or without, it doesn’t matter. The ground just electrifies you. So does a hard hit line drive smack in the glove right in the palm of your hand. Have you heard the expression, “Bees in your bat?” That’s when the ball comes in too close to the barrel and your swing isn’t fast enough to soften the blow of the ball striking the bat handle. I think being electrocuted would feel better.

There’s so much more to the game than meets the eye, ear, nose, throat and touch. I hope this gives you some idea. I love this game like I love my dear wife, my 3 dogs, and my brothers and sisters. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me but I do know what turns me on.

It’s baseball.

I haven’t published anything since July 10, 2018 when I gave some good Uncle advice to my nephew Marc on his wedding day. Since that joyous day, I’ve had somewhat of a difficult time feeling anything but anger at President Tweet and his band of enablers.  I can’t seem to do anything in my free time but read about and share on Facebook and Twitter the latest bit of unacceptable news from Washington. It’s high time I return to just writing. What do you think?  Can I do that?

After all, I started this Blog at the advice of a friend who liked how I didn’t take myself too seriously and enjoyed my humor. Indeed, I’ve tried to write many funny things in my 87 previous posts. I’m very proud that over the course of the last few years I’ve been able to write just about whatever my heart desired. It’s cheap therapy, writing, but also something I enjoy. So why continue limiting myself?  So, in my return, this post may just be something of a ramble.  I hope that is OK.

The anger I feel is toward ignorance and hate and the degradation of the United States of America.  Every day, I feel embarrassed to call myself an American.  We are better than what we’ve shown the world in the last two years and, save for the Blue Wave in the midterm elections and the recent showdown between Tweet and the Democrats (the Dems won!), there’s been no checks and balances.  The rule of law must prevail and I remain optimistic that Robert Mueller’s investigation will continue to tighten the noose around the President’s neck.  There’s no question his campaign colluded with the Russians.  How can the Tweet’s supporters not see this?  He must be impeached and convicted and sent to jail.  He has sold out our great nation.  His behavior cannot be acceptable.

I’m reminded that today is International Holocaust Memorial day.  There are shocking levels of denial in my home country where I read a startling statistic that 1/3 of all Americans deny the Holocaust even existed.  Oh, my God!  This horrible tragedy and the loss of 6 million Jews is incomprehensible and history should never be repeated.  It angers me so that the divisiveness created then is repeating itself now in the United States.  Rather than concentration camps, the Tweeter has 14,000 children in detention and each soul is hoping they will not be forgotten.  Rather than gassing these kids, our government has ripped them away from their parents forever scarring their belief in freedom and their image of the United States as a nation of immigrants.  This angers me so.  This is not the American way of life.  History will not be kind to the Tweet administration.  As this inhumane policy will forever scar the USA like the Holocaust has Germany.

I’d promised myself that I would try to write something funny but today nothing is really tickling my funny bone.  I’m a proud card carrying Democrat.  Call me a snowflake if you wish but I believe in truth, justice, and the American way.  The American way I care so deeply is about working hard, paying your taxes, loving your fellow human being, equality, preventing climate change, civil rights, the separation of Church and State, and the Constitution as the law of the land.  What makes America great is respect and decency.  And those ideals are not so hard to fathom but we need to set a better example than what we see today.  I’d like us to return a state of opportunity not hostility.

What we see too much of is hate.  The anger toward others has to end and it has to end with us.  We must continue the fight against bigotry, misogyny, and narcissism.  We must set a better example for our kids, for the next generation, and for ourselves.  It is only in this way, we can return to some sense of normalcy, and I can return to a more carefree, affable, and witty persona.  For now, I must fight on for civility, education, and love.

Are you with me or is this more of the same, old, B.S. you’ve come to expect from me?

My nephew Marc is getting married today to his childhood sweetheart Kara.  I don’t know much about my middle brother’s youngest son except for the stories shared by his dad and the few times we’ve interacted at his college football games or family visits.  I moved away from Northern California to Boston when he was just 3 years old and additional moves to Long Beach and Portland resulted in but a few times to connect.  In fact, I can’t think of a time when it was just the two of us hanging out without another family member around.  Today, will likely be no different because you’re going to be surrounded by family and friends and rightfully celebrating with your new bride.  So, I thought I’d dedicate this blog post to you and provide some unsolicited marriage advice from your well-meaning Uncle.

No truer words were ever written than, “Happy wife, happy life.”  Take time with Kara.  Listen to her.  Pay attention.  Giving in to her wants and needs is not being “pussy whipped” as many of your macho friends might say.  The love and support you gain will return to you double.  I know from experience how miserable things can become for you if you don’t make Kara your priority.  In the end, all anyone really wants is to be made to feel special.  I sometimes need to take my own advice here so that’s one of the biggest reasons I’m sharing this with you.

Be tough during the tough times.  There will be tough times.  They may not be there now but one day they will come.  There are no such things as fairy tales.  I’m not wishing anything bad for you, of course, rather struggle is a part of everyone’s life and you should be prepared for it.  Rather, my point is how you deal with strife will make or break your marriage.  Every decision you make from this day forward will have a direct impact on both of your lives.  Be a “be there” husband.  It’s during these times of difficulty which you can really make a difference and deepen your love for one another.

I really have no business offering advice about being a parent except this.  You don’t have to have kids.  You both may want them and have them and that’s fine.  But, if you aren’t both fully committed to raising a family it’s OK that you don’t.  My dear wife and I made a conscious choice and sure there are times when we have wished things worked out differently but, in the end, we made the right choice for us.  And really that’s the best advice I can give you, Nephew, make the right choice for YOU and KARA.  No one else but you two.

Save for a rainy day.  You’ll be surprised one day to find yourself nearing retirement like me and you will want to face that day with a strong financial portfolio.  You’ll want to spend your retirement years in a beautiful place like here in Hawaii without concern about money.  Invest wisely and save, and spend your golden years in luxury and not on the street holding up a sign that says, “Will work for food.”

Take care of your health and your wife’s health.  Once you lose your physical condition you pretty much lose everything.  Eat right, drink in moderation, take care of your body.  Get regular dental and medical check ups. Your dear, old, Uncle, follows mostly this advice but knows he can do better here as well.  Just know this, you’ll want to live a long life and enjoy all that this life has to offer but you have to be in shape and you need to have a few bucks saved up.  See previous paragraph.

I’m getting close to getting off my soapbox, kid.  Know this, I love you and Kara.  I wish you the kind of happiness and love and health and wealth your Auntie and I have and more.  I’m very proud of you and know you’ll carry on the Baker tradition of living life to its fullest.  Smile.  Laugh.  Love.  Enjoy this day and make your marriage a lifetime of memories.

Love, Uncle C

“Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?”

Senator Joseph Welch to Senator Joe McCarthy on June 9, 1954.

The same questions should be asked of President Tweet. The list of indecent things he has said or done are without precedent from the leader of the United States of America.  Some of the more incredulous include:

• Referring to Haiti and countries in Africa as “shithole countries”
• Bragging about the size of his ‘nuclear button’
• Telling the NFL to fire players who protest against police violence and the oppression of African-Americans
• Repeatedly calling various media outlets like the Washington Post, the NY Times, and CNN “fake news”
• Saying the licenses for NBC and other broadcast news networks should be challenged and when he banned the New York Times and others from a press briefing
• Giving his daughter and son in-law White House roles
• Accusing protesters of being paid
• Attacking a Federal judge because he blocked Trump’s initial travel ban
• Falsely accusing former President Barack Obama of wiretapping him
• Discussing a response to North Korea’s missile test at dinner at his resort in Mar-a-lago
• Claim negative polls are fake
• Attack companies and celebrities like Amazon, Nordstrom, Meryl Streep, and Arnold Schwarzenegger
• Claim millions of people voted illegally (after he won)
• Use derogatory nicknames for other lawmakers

There are so many more but I will spare you.  Folks, this is not acceptable behavior, from anyone, especially not the President of the United States.  To not speak out is un-American.  Would you allow this boorish behaviour if it was your next door neighbor, a co-worker, a fan at the ballpark?  This isn’t a Red vs. Blue issue.  I’m talking about decency.  President Tweet is not a decent person and doesn’t belong in the Oval Office.  He is setting the absolute worst example.

I know a lot of my friends are probably turned off because I have become political.  I can’t help but speak up when I continue to see this joke of a human being degrade our political system, immigrants, women, minorities, the media, Americans with disabilities, and he is peeing all over the rule of law and the Constitution.  November 6, 2018 cannot come soon enough.  The only way for our democracy to survive is to vote for candidates who will not accept this deplorable behavior.

Believe it or not, I hold many conservative values but this president is anything but conservative.  His behavior is downright insulting to all Americans on the right, middle, and left.  All of the democratic institutions we hold dear are being tossed aside as if they were garbage.  I knew he would be unconventional, which is but one reason why I didn’t vote for him, but I didn’t think he would be so petty, emotional, and such an awful human being.  We Americans deserve better.

Decency is not that hard of an ask of any person.  I’m sure being a decent human being would be what you would ask of your children, neighbors, and siblings.  Not only is President Tweet, “that guy,” he’s also the most annoying leader I’ve ever seen.  I can barely listen to him speak publicly.  He blames everyone else for his problems and never accepts responsibility for failure.  I agree with Comey that he is morally unfit for the job.

I’m not perfect, no one is, but I do expect decency especially from the President.  Don’t you?

 

Oh, how I wish that were true.

I’m not talking about the NCAA Men’s and Women’s Basketball tournament. I’m talking about the madness in Washington, DC that has prevailed since President Tweet’s election as president last January 20th by, no doubt, nefarious means thanks to help from the Russians.

The month of March does, indeed, end today but the chaos in my nation’s capital remains and will for the unforeseeable future. In a little over one year, the casualties of the Tweet Administration has reached 21 people compared to 20 people in 8 years of President Obama! The Tweet’s revolving door style of leadership is anything but acceptable and cannot lead to greater prosperity for the United States of America.  His constantly changing administration can only get anything accomplished by Executive Order, where the Tweet only needs to listen to what is acceptable inside his head. So far, he’s signed 66 E.O.’s, mostly to undo the work of President Obama.  That’s not government leadership to make America great that’s malicious intent to pander to his base of supporters.

It’s obvious that I don’t like President Tweet.  He is not the kind of person I admire and never will.  It’s how he leads that I most object to.  He demands loyalty and admiration without earning it.  But, I’m not naïve.  He has a certain charm that is attractive to some and  I do realize that there’s a large segment of the population who are hurting and who have bought into his rhetoric.  I fault my own Democratic Party for failing to discuss the needs of and come up with solutions for those struggling to get by and who, through blind faith, have put their trust in this narcissist that he will somehow address their unfortunate circumstances.  But, folks, I’m here to tell you, this administration is not the Messiah you seek.  Tax cuts for his wealthy friends are not going to trickle down into your pockets.  All his false promises will result in only further disappointment not jobs.  A border wall isn’t going to make Americans safer.  It will only further divide and isolate the country.

What is really needed is good, old fashioned, investment in the United States of America.  That’s what’s truly going to make the USA great again.  Investment requires taxes, people!  It is taxes which will enable investments in good schools, upgraded infrastructure, a strong military, job creation, homes for the homeless, food for the hungry, counseling for the mentally disturbed, a safe environment, and healthcare for all.  The wealthiest among us have to pay their fair share.  Is this ideal really such a bad idea?

This social media crazed president is not going to lead us to some promised land that only exists in his imagination.  He is the bullshitter’s bullshitter.  He may be the greatest showman of all time and the only person profiting from all of this seems to be his family business and his wealthy friends.  How is this not so painfully obvious to his faithful supporters?  My guess is that they feel there’s no alternative.

There needs to be.  I’m going to hope that on November 6th, a mere 9 months from now, that Americans of voting age will recognize change is needed and vote.  I hope that Democrats will retake the Congress.  President Tweet must be impeached and convicted of violation of his oath to uphold and protect the Constitution.  I hope the next generation of Americans, the Millennials, step up and do more than just complain but return this country to its democratic ideals.  To listen to the needs of the people and to seek solutions for all.   They need to vote.

Perhaps the creation of another political party is necessary.  But, I’m not so much advocating for this as I am a return to some sense of normalcy in our nation’s leadership.  The uncompromising madness in the United States has to stop.  The rule of law must prevail.  The voice of the people must be heard by both parties.  Fairness and democracy is what I’m advocating.  We must evolve.  We must make a significant transition to a place where truly all men and women are created equal.  I remain hopeful that this can happen but it’s not going to come from this president.

It’s time to stop the madness.

My Grandmother Baker was an artist. She painted landscapes mostly of California wilderness settings like a grove of redwood trees, a carpet of ferns, aggressive carnivorous blue jays, and Pacific Ocean waves crashing on rocky shores.  She created oil-based portraits of me and each of my siblings.  She curated at the Santa Cruz Museum of Art & History and was a decades-long member of the Santa Cruz Art League.  At the request of my father, after Dwight Clark caught the winning touchdown pass from Joe Montana to win the National Football Conference Championship game in 1981, she even painted “The Catch.”  I can still smell the tubes of oil paints, the numerous paint brushes in cans filled with turpentine, the wooden palette where she arranged and mixed colors and her wooden easel which folded up like a card table and easily transported in the trunk of her blue Mazda hatchback.

We would take family outings on Sunday’s after Church back when we all lived together on Wanda Court in Santa Cruz and Grandma had her own bedroom to sketch and paint.  During these drives out to Henry Cowell State Park or Big Basin, she would pack her painting gear in the trunk of my dad’s station wagon, along with our lunch, fishing poles and tackle, and picnic utensils. While we went out and played among the giant trees, she would set up her easel, pull out a blank canvas, and with a carbon pencil sketch out what she would later paint in her room.

It is thanks to Grandma I try to visit every art museum I can.  Over the years, I’ve seen exhibits at, besides the Santa Cruz Art Museum, the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco, Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, the Fogg Museum on the Harvard campus, the Getty and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, the Museum of Latin American Art in Long Beach, the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago, the Portland Art Museum, the Phoenix Art Museum, the San Diego Art Museum and the Chicago Art Institute, where my grandmother studied how to become a painter.  I even took an Art Appreciation class at Shasta College, where we studied numerous works in the Art Gallery and wrote about our impressions of the paintings.  Art teaches you the appreciation of our very existence seen through the eyes of another.  An artist expresses their point of view in a uniquely personal way.  Beauty is always in the eye of the artist and I’m so thankful they’re all willing to take the risk and share it.

In High School, I had this profound sense that painting was in my genes, doesn’t everyone like to draw?  But, alas, after one ill fated introduction to Art class, where I could no more produce a poorly drawn stick figure, my focus changed to literary art. I majored in Communication Studies in college and thought my career would turn into a sportswriting career but didn’t work out after several failed attempts.  I turned to work in the international logistics business (another story) and, during a particularly challenging  time when I had lost my job, I went back to school and earned a certificate from UCLA Extension’s Writer’s Program. Several failed attempts at getting one of my short stories published has discouraged me to the point that I now believe my real skill may be in writing essays.

This blog is my opportunity to fulfill my wildest dreams that my literary art may one day speak to someone like the master works from Leonardo da Vinci to Michelangelo to Monet to Frida. A well-written short story or novel moves me in the same way as an incredible painting and my fantasy would be to become that kind of artist. As my writer friend and UCLA professor Tod Goldberg, once said, “If you want to be a writer, you have to write.” Good advice.  So, I’m starting out by writing essays.  I’m writing because I have stories inside of me that I want to write about.  They may never reach the Hemingway level but at least I’m putting my art out there.  I’d like to think you, dear reader, are enjoying what I’m putting on WordPress but in the end my art isn’t about you.  It’s about, like my Grandma, finding one’s own art.

 

I became politically active in 2017.  I was not the only one.  Who can sit idly by while President Tweet, his misguided administration and our do nothing Congress try to ruin our country?  My Facebook posts became a constant stream of forwards from legitimate news organizations like the NY Times, Washington Post, Politico, The Hill, Reuters, CNN and the like, whose articles stated fact upon fact about what was going on.  Folks what’s going on is not acceptable and that is not fake news.  You don’t have to be Republican or Democrat.  You simply have to be an American who cares about our country.  What’s happening is not normal and shouldn’t be ignored or accepted.  We must act.  We must vote.  We must take back our democracy.

On this very blog, five of my seven posts were about my views opposing the Tweet’s leadership.  My hope for 2018 is that on November 6th, a new Congress will be elected that is for and by the people and not just the rich and special interests and, finally, the Executive Branch of our government will be checked and balanced.  I believe in the Constitution.  I believe in the rule of law.  I believe in the United States of America.  I believe in you!

It is not acceptable that he is a bully, that he lies, that he colluded with the Russians to win the election.  It is not acceptable that he spends 25% of his time golfing at his own resorts.  It is not acceptable that he’s not the leader of all the United States of America. It is not acceptable that he pulled the US out of the Paris Agreement.  It is not acceptable that he pulled the US out of the Transpacific Trade Partnership.  It is not acceptable to call racists, “fine people.”  It isn’t acceptable that he is packing the courts with unqualified judges. It isn’t acceptable that he is ruining Dreamers dreams.   He, obviously, isn’t making America great, he’s making it weak.  His approval ratings prove that the majority of Americans do not approve in the direction he’s taking our country.  Frankly, they’re so low, I’m surprised there aren’t even more protests.

I do hope the majority of eligible voters come out for the next election.  There must be a revolution of sorts the likes the current politicians have never seen before where Americans vote for the kind of leadership to move us forward not backward.  We need to elect people who really do care about doing the right thing for the USA and the world.  There are so many things great about America but all can be lost so quickly if we don’t hold on to those things dear in our democracy like listening to the will of the people.  We need politicians with brains and ethics.  We need to hold them accountable to us.  This is not a pipe dream.  Ask Doug Jones.

For example, the vast majority of Americans recognized the new Tax law for what it was – a giveaway to the Rich and Corporations.  Why didn’t Congress listen to the people?  Lower taxes will not increase economic growth, only demand will do that.  How do you create demand?  By creating jobs and increasing wages.  With higher wages, increase consumer spending will drive economic growth.  This is Econ 101 and, sadly, our Congress and President just don’t get it or care to.  Let’s make them pay for their insensitivity to our needs by voting them out of office.

Our standing as a leading world power has dropped this year.  We are no longer admired as the greatest nation on earth.  We have become a laughing stock.  Climate change is real and even the Chinese recognize it.  And even if it isn’t, what is so bad about trying to save the environment for future generations?  Doesn’t everyone want clean air and water?  Doesn’t everyone enjoy the great outdoors and wildlife?  My God, it’s just mind blowing that this is even argument.  We should be leading the environmental charge not disputing it.

Quoting from one of my favorite Facebook posts.  In my house, we believe:

• Black lives matter
• Women’s rights are human rights
• No human is illegal
• Science is real
• Love is love
• Kindness is everything

My New Year’s wish is for no more lies, hate, or bigotry.  We all deserve it.

Happy New Year!