The Old Paths: A Political Pickle

**This was originally published in a similar form in The Stokes News on October 28, 2010. When the publishers changed websites a few years back, all links to archived articles were tragically lost. I am attempting to republish in my blog all of my columns that once appeared in the newspaper. I have updated this column to reflect life in 2016.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. NOT. Well, at least not when it comes to the early primary we have this election year.

I must confess I dread the Presidential election time. Voting is a privilege I take seriously, and I appreciate living in a free nation where I have a say. But each election cycle, I find myself wishing away the days—something Mama told me not to do.

One aspect of my dislike is somewhat trivial: I hate political signs littering the landscape. The main street of Danbury hosts a plethora of signs. The entrance to the Stokes County Government Center is decorated in “candidate couture.” One may only hope that the candidates are responsible and dispose of their signs after the election.

Another reason for my desire to “hurry up and finish” the political season is the ugliness I sometimes see on the part of opposing candidates and parties. Stokes County candidates generally do a good job of steering away from this negative-ad campaigning, in my opinion. From my perspective, there has been minimal murmuring. But the candidates on the state and national scenes? Bash, bash and more bash.

In many cases, the bashed politician (notice I didn’t say “abashed”) has plausible explanations for what the opposing candidate called “criminal activity” or “a bad voting record.” Things are not always what they seem. And partial truths alone can distort the whole truth. You can make any candidate look unappealing with some crafty “political sleight of hand.”

I will more quickly vote for a politician who tells me their positive plans for change and/or reform than I will the one who spends more time in negative bashing of “the other guy.”

The political bashing goes further than the individual; it extends to the party. I’m so tired of this that I have considered becoming unaffiliated. I simply don’t belong with either of the main parties. Although my conservative tendencies would point me toward the elephants, I refuse to believe the donkeys are evil.

Do I hate ultra-liberalism? Yep. Do I hate the liberals? Nope. Do I hate Nazi-like conservatism? Yep. Do I hate the ultra-right-wingers? Of course not. I can hate the political ideology but love the practitioner as a human.

I’ve heard many Republicans insist that a Christian can’t be a Democrat. Baloney, I say. I’ve heard some Democrats assert that all Republicans are holier-than-thou sticks in the mud. Hogwash, I declare. There are good and bad people in both parties. I’ve even seen some Republicans and Democrats in the middle of the political spectrum who are so close in ideology that they might as well be political bedfellows.

I will stand for my beliefs, but there’s a way to do it with civility. For example, I will tell every last one of you that I am passionately anti-abortion However, if you are pro-choice, I will respectfully disagree with your belief but still value you as a human being. I might argue my point to you, but I will do it rationally, and I, in turn, will listen to you. I’ve yet to see a harsh argument win anyone over to anything.

Another pet peeve of mine, politically speaking, is ignorance. Why are you a Republican or a Democrat? Because your parents were? Because all of the (insert your last name here)’s were? Because Grandpa would roll over in his grave if he knew you switched parties?

Rather than blindly registering as one party or another, why not research the major tenets that your family’s party stands for and then decide whether or not you belong there? Remember that what 21st-century Democrats stand for may not be what the Great Depression Democrats stood for. Same for the Republican Party. Platforms do change.

And to echo my daughter, who recently wrote a political column for another newspaper, if you’re going to call a politician a Communist or Socialist, please attempt to at least know what you’re talking about. These two terms are not synonymous.

And if you really want to aggravate me this political season, tell me that all politicians are crooks. I refuse to buy into that generalization.

One of my dear friends is running in a Congressional race in another district. I have known her well for many years, sitting at many a baseball game with her. You will never convince me that this devoted Christian woman and homeschool mom is a crook. She has high ideals and is passionate about wholesome reform in this country.

Will she compromise if elected someday? Probably at some point or another, every politician will have to cede some ground on some issue so that he/she can get a particular issue passed. Although compromise does not lead to an ideal situation for any individual or party, it does often lead to unity between parties, which promotes the general welfare.

Then again, a politician must choose his/her battle. There may be a particular issue that he/she will NEVER compromise on. I personally could never vote for a bill that furthered the cause of abortion, even if it also promised me the liberty to have prayer in schools again.

Similarly, some local politicians will not yield any ground when it comes to raising taxes. Others will consider higher taxes if a pressing need must be met.

I will admit, however, that I yearn for the old paths when politicians did not make careers of it and did it as a service to their fellow Americans, rather than a way to gain ame, fortune and a cozy nest egg for retirement. Where are the Davy Crocketts or the Daniel Websters who gave the devil a run for his money?

Give me the days when simple people with good common sense could help govern this country rather than having to always defer to politicians who have the family name and/or big bucks backing them.

But I live in a 21st-century world where politicians are very different from the way our founding fathers intended them to be. Thank God that here in Stokes County we still have races full of good, common (and often uncommonly good!) folks who probably are in the race because they truly care about this county and people like you and me.

As for most of the candidates on the state and national levels, I can’t say.

May the best man/woman win!

The Old Paths: A Manic March

**This was originally published in a similar form in The Stokes News on March 21, 2013. When the publishers changed websites a few years back, all links to archived articles were tragically lost. I am attempting to republish in my blog all of my columns that once appeared in the newspaper. I have updated this column to reflect life in 2016.

I have always told people that June was my favorite month. Yes, yes, I’m biased because June is my birth month. But I’m wondering if I might have to change my favorite month to March. With the madness of March, you wouldn’t think it appeals to me, but it does.

The term “March Madness” is technically a reference to the intensity of the NCAA basketball tournament and the conference tournaments that lead into it.
But the phrase also pretty much sums up my life in March for the past several years.

In fact, this year’s March is downright manic. There is so much going on that you barely have time to breathe and sit a spell. (You, too, huh?)

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Easter comes in March this year. Most of us identify Easter with April, but every so often it hits in late March. That makes for a much busier month.

Add to that the fact that it’s time for my hubster’s adult baseball team to start practicing. Since my son is now on that team—having graduated from high school baseball—you will probably find me headed to practices as I did on the old paths of his childhood baseball career. Opening Day of the season is in early April, so March is preparation month. (My sportswriter friend Dennis says the sanctity of the first day of the Major League Baseball season demands proper-noun-like capital letters: Opening Day. I have taken the liberty of using the caps for my family’s season-opener as well.)

My son Elijah batting for the Twins adult baseball team in 2015.

Let’s throw something else into the mix—Daylight Saving Time. On the old paths, DST started the first Sunday in April. But the U.S. government passed an energy bill in 2005 which changed all of that. Since 2007, DST has begun the second Sunday in March.

That may not seem like such a big deal, but since it takes a few weeks for most people to physically acclimate to the time change, it is an especially huge deal this year with such a busy March. Many of us may feel draggy, blah, sleepy, even sick once we spring forward on March 13. Yes, our bodies’ circadian rhythms are so delicate that a mere hour’s change affects us in myriad ways—even resulting in more heart attacks and auto accidents the first few weeks after the time change. (Let’s don’t claim that—okay?)

So just when we need that extra energy—to start running the kids to baseball, softball and soccer practices; to fill out our tournament brackets and get pumped over “one-and-done” basketball games; to start dying ye old Easter eggs and plan the family Easter gathering—we are zapped, slammed, run over by a time truck that took an hour of our sleep.

But lest we become despondent, let’s look at the joy that is March. The energy-sapping time change has given us more time in the evening after work to throw ball with the kids, start tilling up the garden spot, sit out on the porch and feast our eyes on the forsythia.

Then there’s St. Patrick’s Day—a holiday I am particularly partial to, given my love for Ireland and for St. Patrick, that phenomenal man of God who evangelized the Emerald Isle. We don the springlike green clothing and playfully pinch party-poopers who refuse the wearin’ o’ the green. We eat corned beef and cabbage followed by doughnuts or cookies decorated with green icing. Some drink green beer and Irish dance in parades and Celtic festivals.

My kids and I at our 2014 March 4-H meeting!

And if that’s not enough joy for you, there’s that most excellent and bodacious day of the year—the vernal equinox. Before you wrinkle your brow, let’s put it in simpler terms—THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING!

I would lobby to make this a government holiday and give everyone the day off. We should celebrate the day we cross the line into more light than darkness. “Equinox” is the word for the day of the year that the periods of daylight and dark are equal. “Ver” is the Latin word for spring, so we arrive at the “vernal equinox” when hours of light begin to outnumber the dark…..until the autumnal equinox in September.

We should all wake up rejoicing on this day—the cold winter has ended, buds are sighted on the trees, early flowers are blooming, days are steadily warmer on the average. We need a day off to drink in this nectar of nature’s new life, to sip this ambrosia of nodding yellow daffodils and cheerful red tulips, to lap up every last morsel of morning birdsong and evening peeper sounds from the creek.

Who’s with me? Let’s march on Washington! (It’d be nice to see the cherry blossoms anyway, wouldn’t it?)

And this year, we get the added bonus of Easter in this manic month of March—a celebration of spiritual resurrection paralleling nature’s resurrection. In the midst of it all, we figuratively hold our breaths for the beauty that is to come: azaleas, redbud trees, dogwoods, lilacs and more. No wonder I have spring fever all winter long!

Yep, March is closing in on June as my favorite month. I could do without the chilly gales and blustery breezes, but there’s much else to be thankful for.

I have always said spring is such an evanescent and fleeting season that we must savor every second of it before it’s gone. The British poet A. E. Housman was only 20 when he realized the poignancy of how quickly spring is past. He penned a poem called “Loveliest of Trees” in which he speculated that he may only have 50 years of life left. And so he wrote:

“And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow.”

No matter how busy this manic March finds you—watching basketball, perfecting the Easter cantata, practicing baseball—don’t forget to get out into the woods and imbibe the essence of spring before it’s gone.