"Sitting this one out" by Adolph Reed

Reprinted without permission--I like this piece. I basically agree with everything he says. It is the best cogent articulation I've seen of the dilemma we're in. Why it's simultaneously true that the "serious" candidates of the Democratic party aren't what we want or need them to be, and why we have to vote for them anyway, and what it's going to take to change that.

The part of the piece that I most concur with is this "This bleak reality reflects the left’s failure to build any durable extra-electoral force between elections that can bring pressure to bear on the Democratic contenders and debate."

Let me know what you think of it.

By Adolph L. Reed Jr.
November 2007 Issue THE PROGRESSIVE

OK, HERE WE ARE AGAIN, a year out from a Presidential election, and we’re all supposed to be figuring out which of the Democrats has the best chance to win—determined mainly by the standard of raising the most money—and subordinating all our substantive political concerns to the objective of getting him or her elected. This time, I’m not going to acquiesce in the fiction that the Presidential charade has any credibility whatsoever. I’m not paying any attention to the horse race coverage—that mass-mediated positioning in the battle for superficial product differentiation.

The Democratic candidates who are anointed “serious” are like a car with a faulty front-end alignment: Their default setting pulls to the right. They are unshakably locked into a strategy that impels them to give priority to placating those who aren’t inclined to vote for them and then palliate those who are with bromides and doublespeak. When we complain, they smugly say, “Well, you have no choice but to vote for me because the other guy’s worse.” The party has essentially been nominating the same ticket with the same approach since Dukakis.

The last straw for me was the spectacle of all the “serious candidates” falling over one another to link Castro and Chávez with Ahmadinejad, bin Laden, and Kim, thus endorsing the Bush Administration’s view that any government that does anything that ours doesn’t like—including giving its own people’s needs higher priority than those of our corporations—qualifies it as a supporter of terrorism, a rogue state, part of the Axis of Evil, or whatever comic book slogan is operative this week. Then came the supposedly anti-war Obama buttressing his commitment to increase overall American troop strength with a pledge to invade Pakistan. Then came his and HRC’s tiff over the etiquette of publicly declaring a willingness to use nuclear weapons on a case-by-case basis, with both parties treating the issue as purely a matter of foreign policy gamesmanship. And this was during Hiroshima and Nagasaki week, no less!
Each serious candidate has boosters who will tell us that we should be more sophisticated than to take what their candidates say at face value, that their empty, inadequate, or objectionable proposals are the best, most realistic versions of whatever we think we want—from ending the war, to universal national health care and access to quality education, to public investment in rebuilding the Gulf Coast and the rest of the country’s physical and social infrastructure, to worker protection and fighting environmental degradation.

A friend of mine characterizes this as the “we’ll come back for you” politics, the claim that they can’t champion anything you want because they have to conciliate your enemies right now to get elected, but that, once they win, they’ll be able to attend to the progressive agenda they have to reject now in order to win. This worked out so well with the Clinton Presidency, didn’t it? Remember his argument that he had to sign the hideous 1996 welfare reform bill to be able to come back and “fix” it later? Or NAFTA? Or two repressive and racist crime bills that flooded the prisons? Or the privatizing of Sallie Mae, which set the stage for the student debt crisis? Or ending the federal government’s commitment to direct provision of housing for the poor?

This time, the nominal frontrunners have Rube Goldberg health care proposals that protect the insurance and pharmaceutical industries, the chief sources of the health care crisis. They discuss the murderous adventurism in Iraq and Afghanistan mainly in bloodless, managerial terms—as a “broken policy” or some other such technician’s euphemism. Not only do their references to the tragic loss of American lives seem pro forma and constructed by focus-group engineers; they also reinscribe the presumption that only American lives count. This is part of what undergirds the broader framework of a foreign policy hinged on cavalier use of military assault and invasion in the first place—what used to be clearly recognized as imperialism. Edwards, who seems somewhat better than the others on Iraq, apparently needs to make up for it—lest what seem like expressions of decency be grounds for accusations of weakness—by being even more bellicose than they regarding Iran. However, all of them have indicated a lusty willingness to attack Iran, Syria, or any other country that can be demonized either for not dancing to our government’s tune or even just because it’s convenient to do so as a prop for some other purpose.

At the end of the primary campaign, one of the “serious candidates” is going to get the nomination and form a ticket with another version of his or her triangulating self. (I still wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out to be Clinton-Obama, in an all-Oprah ticket, an exercise in massive short-term self-delusion and empty identity politics that will guarantee the White House to whichever combo the GOP puts up.) Maybe by Election Day I’ll be moved or guilted or frightened into voting for that ticket, whatever it is. But I’m just as likely to sit this one out.

And I’m prepared to blow off every liberal who starts whining and hectoring, in that self-important and breathless way they do, about our obligation to protect “choice” or to make sure we can get another Stephen Breyer or Sandra Day O’Connor onto the Supreme Court.

I know that some outraged readers are going to write in, fulminating about how nihilistically ultraleftist I am to criticize the Democrats in this way and how irresponsible The Progressive is to publish the criticism—especially now, when the stakes are so great and it’s so crucially important for the future of the country, the world, the galaxy, the cosmos, that some Democrat—anyone, no matter how worthless—wins the Presidency. (That they make the same cataclysmic claim about every election never seems to dull their self-righteous fervor.) They’ll explain that we have to understand that we can’t get everything we want all at once, that the Democrats can’t go any further than they go, and that a half-hearted promise of part of a stale loaf of bread in some unspecified future is better than no bread at all—especially for those who don’t really need the bread at the moment.

Well, in part, they’re right. The Democrats are what they are. We should all know that by now, after two decades of their failing to stand up to the rightwing juggernaut, of presenting themselves as more responsible and steady managers of the country’s slide to the right. By the time the national elections come around, there really are no options other than to vote for their predictably worthless nominee, make an existential statement (or engage in wish-fulfillment, if you think it’s more than that) by voting for a third party candidate, or just not bother. This bleak reality reflects the left’s failure to build any durable extra-electoral force between elections that can bring pressure to bear on the Democratic contenders and debate.

Elected officials are only as good or as bad as the forces they feel they must respond to. It’s a mistake to expect any more of them than to be vectors of the political pressures they feel working on them. This is a lesson that progressives have forgotten or failed to learn.

As an illustration, consider the recent contretemps between John Conyers and the pro-impeachment, anti-war activists who attacked him as a sellout for failing to push impeachment over Nancy Pelosi’s and the House Democratic leadership’s opposition. His critics accused him of betraying the spirit of Martin Luther King. But that charge only exposes their unrealistic expectations. Conyers isn’t a movement leader. He’s a Democratic official who wants to get reelected. He’s enmeshed in the same web of personal ties, partisan loyalties and obligations, and diverse interest-group commitments as other pols. It was the impeachment activists’ naive error, and I suspect one resting on a partly racial, wrongheaded shorthand, to have expected him to lead an insurgency. If the pro-impeachment forces had been able to organize a popular movement with militant local to national expressions on a wide scale, Conyers would have had the leverage necessary to press the movement’s case to Pelosi and Democratic leadership, or at least he and the others would have felt real pressure to act more boldly on this issue. Instead, an understandable sense of urgency led them to take a politically self-indulgent, doomed shortcut. The result is much wasted effort, unnecessary enmity, and another demoralizing defeat.

Unfortunately, like the Democrats, our side fails to learn from experience. Despite a mountain range of evidence to the contrary, we—the labor, anti-war, women’s, environmental, and racial justice movements—all continue to craft political strategy based on the assumption that the problem is that the Democrats simply don’t understand what we want and how important those things are to us. They know; they just have different priorities.

That’s why the endless cycle of unofficial hearings and tribunals and rallies and demonstrations and Internet petitions never has any effect on anything. They’re all directed to bearing witness before an officialdom that doesn’t care and feels no compulsion to take our demands into account. To that extent, this form of activism has become little more than a combination of theater—a pageantry of protest—and therapy for the activists.

Then at the apex of every election cycle, after having marched around in the same pointless circle, chanting the same slogans in the interim, we look feverishly to one of the Democrats or some Quixote to do our organizing work for us, magically, all at once.

We need to think about politics in a different way, one that doesn’t assume that the task is to lobby the Democrats or give them good ideas, and correct their misconceptions.

It’s a mistake to focus so much on the election cycle; we didn’t vote ourselves into this mess, and we’re not going to vote ourselves out of it. Electoral politics is an arena for consolidating majorities that have been created on the plane of social movement organizing. It’s not an alternative or a shortcut to building those movements, and building them takes time and concerted effort. Not only can that process not be compressed to fit the election cycle; it also doesn’t happen through mass actions. It happens through cultivating one-on-one relationships with people who have standing and influence in their neighborhoods, workplaces, schools, families, and organizations. It happens through struggling with people over time for things they’re concerned about and linking those concerns to a broader political vision and program. This is how the populist movement grew in the late nineteenth century, the CIO in the 1930s and 1940s, and the civil rights movement after World War II. It is how we’ve won all our victories. And it is also how the right came to power.

The anti-war movement isn’t coherent or popularly grounded enough to exert the pressure necessary to improve the electoral options; only the labor movement has the capacity to do so, but it doesn’t have the will. None of the other progressive tendencies has the capacity to do anything more than lobby or exhort. Effective lobbying requires being able to deliver or withhold crucial resources, and none but labor has that capacity. Exhortation works only with people who share your larger goals and objectives; other than that it’s useless except as catharsis.

We also need to think more carefully about what our demonstrations and protest marches can and can’t do. Here we could take a lesson from Martin Luther King. His 1962 Albany, Georgia, campaign failed because the local authorities figured out that the success of King’s mass marches depended on meeting brutal resistance from local officials. When they didn’t forcibly stop the marches, the movement fizzled.

Our approach to mass mobilization is like the Albany campaign. Our actions don’t raise public consciousness because they’re treated dismissively, if at all, in the mainstream media. They don’t even connect with the residents of the cities where we hold them because we agree to strict march routes and rally sites that make certain we don’t engage with anyone other than ourselves. And we agree not to disrupt routine daily life more than a homecoming parade would in exchange for having a designated place to gather and talk to ourselves. Even the civil disobedience is carefully choreographed and designed to be minimally disruptive.

Whether or not we admit it, these are features of a politics that is focused mainly inward, on shoring up the spirits of the participants in the actions themselves. They don’t send a message that those in power can’t simply ignore, and they don’t inform, excite, or win over anyone who’s not already on board with the movement’s agenda. It’s telling in this sense that our movement culture has evolved elaborately clever techniques for keeping participants entertained through the stale, all-too-predictable cavalcade of speeches and chants and puppets on stilts.

To be clear, I’m not arguing that people don’t need to engage in rallies and protests. It is self-defeating, however, to collapse the difference between the activities that make us feel good and the work that is necessary to build the movement. There are no shortcuts or magic bullets. And, if we don’t confront that fact and act accordingly, we’ll be back in this same position, but most likely with options a little worse than these, in 2012, and again and again.

Adolph L. Reed Jr. is professor of political science at the University of Pennsylvania.

(:)(:)(:) for Escape to Witch Mountain

Three enthusiastic snouts up for Escape to Witch Mountain the 1975 Disney classic. What is happening to me? I'm in this movie period where I have to recover from the violence and gore of today's hollywood with Disney drivel. Yet, there it is, the night after I subjected myself to No Country for Old Men, I watched Escape to Witch Mountain with my 12 year old.

We both liked it a lot. I, however, was distracted by the residual effect of the carnage from the night before. Essentially I saw two movies: one, the Disney classic, and two, the movie as the Coen brothers might have made it.

My son giggled as I worried that the two super-powered orphans would be brutally torn apart by the hounds that pursued them. I was sure that grouchy man with a heart of gold Eddie Alpert would be shot in his skivvies at point blank range by the millionaire who desperately wanted the children (whom Eddie was saving) back.

I knew that the helicopter and car filled with angry vigilantes who hated the children would crash, burn, explode on the kids, fire machine guns, etc. None of this happened.

When a car crashes into a tree, the guys laugh and get out of car. When the children hold the millionaire's minions at gunpoint with a pistol that floats in the air, the pistol drops to the ground after detaining them in their pursuit. It does not blow their brains out.

The 1975-level special effects of this film do not hold up over time--they seem comical by 2007 standards. And the acting and writing are a bit wooden and contrived (especially the kids). But the story is sweet, suspenseful and hopeful. A nice change from the Coen brothers.

My son informs me that the sequel, "Return to Witch Mountain" is much bloodier. Apparently the kindly high-powered uncle who whisks the kids away at the end of the first film becomes a hired killer out for revenge.

(:)(:) for No Country for Old Men

Two snouts up for No Country for Old Men the pointless "thriller" by the Coen brothers (known in Hollywood as "the two-headed director") now playing in movie theaters. I have loved many Coen brothers films despite the violence, Fargo, O Brother Where Art Thou? Raising Arizona, and Barton Fink, to name a few.

But this may have been my first foray into the really relentless Coen brothers films. I had previously spared myself Miller's Crossing and Blood Simple which I believe were much more bloody. So if it had just been me, I might have discounted my experience of this film. I don't tend to like overly violent pictures, and might have overlooked the brilliance of the Coen brothers as I sat bathed in the blood of the movie.

My husband, who has a high tolerance for violent films and also loves the Coen brothers , seemed to largely share my experience of this one. Our reaction could largely be summed up as "Whaaa?"

Despite compelling performances by Javier Bardem, Josh Brolin and, the stand-out, Tommy Lee Jones, arresting cinematography and lots of thrilling near death experience for our "hero" Josh Brolin (a vietnam vet turned n'er-do-well welder who stumbles upon $2 million in cash in a drug deal gone bad and goes on the lam with it), the movie is ultimately completely pointless.

Tommy Lee Jones character says things that sound like they are supposed to be profound or would give us some insight into why we've been subjected to what essentially is a horror show of the character played by Javier Bardem stalking his prey, Llewelyn (played by Brolin).

The Coen brothers make a number of completely inexplicable choices in the movie, providing us with a massively anticlimatic series of "endings," and no sense of why on earth we would ever want to have endured this movie. We get to watch Bardem kill person after person and sometimes compellingly not kill some people. And we watch Tommy Lee Jones, the near-retirement sweetheart Texas cop, not do a blessed thing about it despite his concern.

Do yourself a favor and skip the carnage. Read a good book instead.

(:)(:)(:)(:) for The Golden Compass

Four snouts up for The Golden Compass opening today in Sacramento, California.

I struggled with the number of snouts for this one. It is a beautiful film, with a compelling plot, well-conceived, well-acted, well-written.

It held my attention throughout. I truly cared about the main character Lyra (an 11 year old girl played convincingly by 10 year old Dakota Blue Richards) and I was even interested in the dubious character of Mrs. Coulter played by Nicole Kidman (whom lately I have hated). (Coulter shown here attempting to intimidate her charge Lyra)

It doesn't help me sort this out that my kids are obsessed by the "His Dark Materials" series, of which The Golden Compass is book one. Their high expectations for the film were not dampened in the sneak preview we got Monday.

No. What makes me struggle here at all is the violence. The film ends with a massive battle scene on the frozen tundra between the forces of the all-controlling Magisterium and witches, ice bears and "gyptians" who stand for freedom. Even my children tell me the scene was gratuitous, not in the book on that scale.

Why, in an era where we so desperately need peace, must we send the message to children that the only way to freedom is through violent combat? As much as I liked this movie, I am close to banning them from watching the sequel 'til they're 18.

Meet Top Thought Policewoman Jane Harman

You wouldn't think the Congresswoman who represents drug and street-people laden Venice, California would be the leading Democrat for the thought police, but she is. This past week, Harman, former chair of the House Intelligence Committee, steered the "Violent Radicalization and Homegrown Terrorism Prevention Act" through the House of Representatives with an overwhelming bipartisan mandate of 400-6. The bill, dubbed "Patriot Act Lite" by some civil libertarians is now headed to the Senate.

The ACLU says this bill could herald in a new government crackdown on such dissident activities as talking, writing and walking. The bill would create what Randi Rhodes has called a "roving commission" to examine dissident activity in the country and potentially criminalize hundreds of legal gatherings, writings or speeches. Rhodes compared the commission to McCarthy's notorious House UnAmerican Activities Committee.

While Rhodes, being the left's answer to Rush Limbaugh, is somewhat prone to exaggeration for effect, the notion is frightening to me, one more sign that fear of terrorism is leading the country further into the throes of fascism.

Even more disturbing is the way the newly elected House Democrats have nothing to say about it--they simply roll over in droves, voting for what seems like a blatantly unconstitutional measure out of fear of being called soft on terrorism.

I don't know about you, but I'm about this close to going completely third party nutball on the Democratic party and Pelosi. I have this problem, it hurts me a lot worse to be screwed by my supposed friends than by the Republicans whom I wrote off years ago.

How long are we supposed to endure this date rape? At a minimum, House members like Harman (who has long identified as a "Blue Dog" or more conservative Democrat) need to be primaried by Democrats who are serious about standing up for the Constitution, making this country a safer place by spreading peace and love, not fear and hate.

Harman fought off a primary challenge by Democratic activist Marcy Winograd in 2006--someone who can win needs to run against Harman again this year. And we need similar challenges all over the country to send a message that this isn't what the Democratic party should stand for.

Consider: your Congressmember almost certainly voted for this bill too (only 6 did not). And your senators (mine are Barbara Boxer and Diane Feinstein) will likely have an opportunity to vote on the bill's counterpart, S. 1959. Call them all at (202) 224-3121 and tell them you oppose this bill.

Could Hillary's Attacks on Obama Help Edwards?

In what is seriously a 3-way dead heat in Iowa, Edwards may be the beneficiary of the animosity between the two presumed front-runner camps.

Thanks to Vince Marchand of Sacramento (I say that like I have readers all over the country and as if Vince isn't one of my best friends) for sending me this Dave Corn column on Hillary's attack on Obama dubbed "Kindergate." Apparently Hillary's camp viscerally hates Obama and has released devastating evidence that proves conclusively that Obama has been planning to be President since he was in Kindergarten--gasp!

The most damning thing the Clinton camp has to say about Obama according to Corn? "It's his presumptuousness," according to one Clinton operative Corn talked to. "That he thinks he can deny her the nomination. Who is he to try to do that?"

I doubt whether Kindergate will hurt Obama, but repeated negative attacks might eat into his support. The attacks may also backfire on Clinton. Who stands to gain? John Edwards, that's who.

(:)(:)(:) for The Shaggy Dog (1959)

Three snouts up for The Shaggy Dog (colorized version) made in 1959. I watched this movie the other day with my kids and I was surprised how well it held up. I kind of expected that it would be so silly and predictable that I would have to answer my email through the whole thing. Not that I was riveted, but it held my attention throughout.

Actually it made me realize (for the umpteenth time) how much worse most kid movies are today. Most of them rely on action, gadgets, visual tricks, and constantly changing images to hold a kid's attention. This relies on the old-fashioned idea of character development and story to hook you.

Fred MacMurray is at his finest as the grouchy (mailman Wilson Daniels) dad who hates dogs with such a passion that he reaches for his shotgun when one is nearby. The whole rest of the cast is wonderful. His sons are cast beautifully, especially Tommy Kirk as Wilby Daniels, the son who accidentally turns into a dog.

The movie takes pains to create a credible thread for its ridiculous premise. It's a joy to watch these kids in their 1950s vehicles and tuxedos driving around town (with Annette Funicello no less)--so cute!

This movie is well made, well-acted and directed. It's a predictable plot, but with some fun twists and a lot of genuinely funny physical comedy. I like that there's a cold war twist and cop and robber action but the only gun that ever comes out is Fred MacMurray's shotgun. There are no gadgets. There is no loud music. This is sweet fare for the whole family.

Dead Heat in Iowa?

I don't know how much I have to add to the media buzz on polling out of Iowa this week, but I am interested in this. It seems that there is no front-runner in either party 6 weeks out in the Iowa caucuses, with Obama holding a (probably statistically insignificant) lead over Clinton followed closely by Edwards.

In the Republican caucus race, former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee has pulled into a statistical dead heat with Mitt Romney (read New York Times blog on that for more).

The main thing I wish to point out is something I try never to say (but other columnists revel in): I told you so. I predicted that things were going to tighten in both races considerably, and they have. I'm also not surprised to see Huckabee moving up. For a long time it has seemed likely that a former Arkansas governor with strong conservative credentials would have massive appeal with Republican voters.

However it's certainly too early to make any predictions about outcome. John Kerry was polling at 4% this far out in the last Iowa caucus with Howard Dean in a massive lead. This ABC News clip (click on the headline) indicates that most Iowans (probably in an ABC News poll) find Hillary Clinton the "most electable" which mystifies and terrifies me in turn. They also point out that Edwards is still very much in it.

I Heart Hillary

I feel defensive after receiving comments on yesterday's blog Prediction: Hillary Clinton will not Win the California Presidential Primary. I wish to clarify: I love Hillary Clinton.

Hillary Rodham Clinton is a smart, successful, funny woman. She is a good mother and a steadfast wife (to say the least!). She is powerful and interesting. As compelling as these reasons are, they do not explain my love for Hillary Clinton.

I love Hillary because she is a fellow human being. She lives and breathes and walks this planet with me. She and I are separated only by illusion. I pray for her highest good daily, especially because she has such a strong effect on the world.

I love Hillary the same way I love George Bush.

Prediction: Hillary Clinton will not Win the California Presidential Primary

I'll let you in on an important political secret: my mother is the unit California Democrat. As she votes, so vote the Democrats of California. As long as I have been tracking it, this has been proven to be true.* And my mother doesn't like (putting it mildly) Hillary Clinton.

Here are the facts: she is a retired schoolteacher, born and raised in the deep south east, she has lived in California 55 years (40 of them in San Diego). Although widowed by a radical leftist (yes, my father) who registered Peace and Freedom Party and often voted for losing third party candidates against mainstream Democrats, my mother is a yellow dog Democrat. There isn't an ounce of swing voter in her. She is relatively socially liberal, tends to be comfortable with and support the mainstream Democratic choices.

She supported Bill Clinton, Michael Dukakis (she loves Greeks), Walter Mondale, Al Gore and John Kerry in their respective primaries (and she supported them long before the historically late California primaries rolled around). She still holds bitterness and resentment against some of her children for "throwing the election to that man (W)" by supporting Ralph Nader in 2000. "That man" was also what she called Ronald Reagan.

Closer to home, she supported Gray Davis until the San Diegans started to experience blackouts and electricity rate hikes. Then she started to hate him and voted for Cruz Bustamante in the recall--I think she voted against the recall because she was worried about Schwarzenegger winning, but I'm not sure, I should check.

She always votes in every single election. She calls my husband and goes over any questions she has on her ballot with him, taking his advice if she doesn't know more about it herself from locals. She is also very interested in how the local teachers' union tells her to vote. If the teachers' union's opinion differs from ours, she'll usually go with the union.

So last night, I gingerly broached the subject of who she was favoring in the California Presidential primary. I had been avoiding the subject for months afraid that it would be Hillary, given her affection for her husband.

Her response? "I'll tell you who I don't favor, Hillary Clinton. How anybody could vote for that woman is beyond me. I don't think she can win. The Republicans are all united against her. And I don't want her to be President. I don't trust her. I'm afraid I'm going to have to support that Obama, Barat (sic) whatever is name is, whom I've never even heard speak."

Music to my ears. A white woman brought up in the cradle of the confederacy, with all that that implies, would rather support a black man whose name she doesn't even remember over Hillary Clinton.

There's hope!


*Exception, my mother did not vote for stunning upset Assembly primary winner, Lori Saldana in 2004. Perhaps she is only the prognosticator of statewide outcomes, not local races.

Revising the Snout-based rating system

It has come to my attention that my snout-based rating system, as wonderful as it is, needs revision. Many people have emailed and commented about this (btw, have you seen that I have now made it easy to comment? You don't have to register or anything, you can do it anonymously, so please do comment--many of you email me wonderful comments but only I read them).

The problem with the current system is that it jumps from 3 snouts being "flawed but worth seeing" to two snouts "just atrocious" and then there's nowhere to go but down. The reason there are 5 snouts instead of 4 is simply to differentiate between good movies and best movies of all time.

So here is the revised system:

(:)(:)(:)(:)(:) One of the best movies ever made (American Beauty)
(:)(:)(:)(:) Wonderful (The Big Easy)
(:)(:)(:) Worth seeing (Hair)
(:)(:) Flawed (Syriana
(:) Irredeemably bad (Terror of Tiny Town--all midget western)

I don't have time to revise my page template to reflect it right now, but that's coming. Thanks for your interest.

(;)(:)(:)(:)(:) for Deepak Chopra, M.D.

Five snouts up for Deepak Chopra. This is the first time I've ever used my snout-based rating system to rate a person, rather than one of their books, movies or plays. But I make an exception for Chopra. I love Chopra. I devour Chopra books and speeches (although I've never seen him in person). If I had TiVo I would TiVo him. If they made Chopra t-shirts and bracelets, I would buy them and wear them.

And I'm not the least physically attracted to him! This may be my first all out obsession with a public figure that wasn't based at least in part on physical attraction. If I had been using my snout-based rating system as a teenager, I'm ashamed to say that I would have issued 5 snouts to such luminaries as Bobby Sherman, John Travolta, and (shudder) Sly Stallone (I haven't given up the habit of celebrity crushes, but I no longer have posters of them in my room--now they would be of George Clooney and, well, Bill Clinton, but not Hillary).

No, I love Chopra because he is able to explain in scientific terms such concepts as thoughts, dreams, intentions, coincidences, past, present and future, and, ultimately, God.

In a speech the kids and I listen to called "The Cosmic Mind and the Submanifest Order of Being" he really walks us through the quantum physics of consciousness. It's all very well and good for people to stand up in church and say we are all one. To me, it's another thing entirely to be shown that at the subatomic (quantum) level, the boundaries between our bodies absolutely do not exist.

We are light and energy and intention. We are not even specific masses of light, energy and intention. There is nothing to indicate where one person (or for that matter, one chair, table, mountain or river) starts or ends--we are all literally one.

By the way, my kids have trouble interpreting his South Asian accent. They insist that he is northern European, rather than Indian. They call him "that Swedish guy."

PELOSI CALLS FOR HANDWRITTEN IMPEACHMENT LETTERS?

This may be an internet hoax, but what do we have to lose--this was forwarded to me from Cindy Asner, Ed Asner's wife, a Hollywood activist:

Pelosi purportedly asks for 10,000 handwritten impeachment letters. Will you send one before Friday?
Speaker Nancy Pelosi
235 Cannon HOB
Washington, DC 20515

IT'S WORTH A SHOT!

House Resolution 333 for the impeachment of Vice President Dick Cheney
is off the House floor, and has instead been sent to the Judiciary
Committee for "further study." This maneuver, organized by Pelosi and
the Democratic leadership, is consistent with their mantra that
impeachment is "off the table." But, we are told Nancy Pelosi is
reported to have replied to the question of impeachment that if she
received 10,000 hand written letters she would proceed with it. What
are we waiting for?

Bay Spill, Crises and Public Policy

Listening to an extensive series of interviews yesterday on the Forum show on KQED (Northern California public radio) about the big oil spill in San Francisco bay, I was struck by how strongly crises affect public policy in California, and elsewhere. Crises seem to have become a necessary ingredient for social change to occur.

From this vantage point, using only anecdote and my limited memory, it seems that clear, obvious, well-documented systemic problems are not sufficient to capture the attention of the public or their legislators. Well, I overstate the case. Problems such as millions of uninsured people, indisputable global warming, and widely weakened bridges do reach the attention of the public and their legislators, but for the most part, those systemic problems are not sufficient to result in policy changes.

Instead, we need Hurricane Katrina, dramatic bridge collapses, and killing sprees in highschools to force legislators to pass legislation and appropriate money to address such matters.

The container ship spilling oil into the bay recalls the dramatic massive oil spill of the Exxon Valdez many years back--that crisis resulted in legislation, which according to experts on the Forum show, produced a 90% decrease in the number of oil spills since then.

Crises are clearly the only way we get ethics or campaign finance reform too.

Perhaps this is the problem with health care reform--despite the many horror stories suffered by people without insurance or with inadequate health care access, it is all still at the level of individuals, documented systemically.

Maybe what we need is for a container ship to crash into the bay bridge and spill into the bay hundreds of uninsured middle class Americans on their way to Europe for medical procedures, then we could leverage the passage of universal health care.

(:)(:)(: for Love in the Time of the Cholera

Two and a half snouts up for Love in the Time of the Cholera soon to be playing in a theater near you. Beautifully filmed and costumed, with an able performance by Javier Bordem in the lead role, nevertheless the film cannot transcend a stagnant screenplay and some atrocious performances (not mention casting choices).

I was looking forward to the first adaptation for the screen that I have seen of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book. This was a beautiful book, which I urge you to read. Fortunately or not, I remember little of it. I was able to simply experience this as a film, unfettered by the book.

Nonetheless, it doesn't work. The single worst problem being Italian actress Giovanna Mezzogiorno in the lead female role of Fermina Daza. Her cold withholding performance and tired screen presence leave every doubt as to how Florentino Ariza (Javier Bordem) could possibly pine away for her for 51 years. There is no chemistry or energy between the two of the them. Her side of the story is not believable.

Having said this, somehow within the constraints of a weak script and a terrible leading "actress," Bordem's character comes to life. I absolutely believed that he was a mild-mannered clerk bedding over 600 women while he waits "with fidelity" for Fermina's husband to die.

One problem is that Fermina's husband Juvenal Urbino is played so well by Benjamin Bratt, that you can't believe Fermina could have lacked for anything--he comes across as handsome, loving and wonderful, the ideal husband, save for a brief affair later in the marriage.

Finally, in 2007 I consider it an unforgiveable choice to create the movie, set in turn of the (previous) century Columbia, in heavily-accented English instead of Spanish with subtitles or unaccented English. This stupid choice was made all the odder by random bursts of Spanish song or calls of "ayudame!" from the many cholera victims. Do people switch from heavily accented English to Spanish as they grow sicker?

Skip the movie and read the book, in Spanish if possible.

The Ring Cycle--Part III

Spiritual Lessons Learned by Losing (and Finding) my Wedding Rings

You would think, having lost one of my gorgeous antique unique diamond platinum wedding rings out at our spot on the Cosumnes River, I would have learned my lesson but no. On another occasion, I go out to the river with a group of women (see previous column for observations about nudity, still true).

We swim, we talk, we eat a great feast. We clean up. We return home.

As I'm getting out of the car, I remember that I took off my wedding rings before swimming (while it was still vaguely light), I begin looking through every bag I have as I walk to my house, reassuring my concerned women friends with call over my shoulder that "all will be well."

I get to my house and finish inspecting every bag in the light--nothing. Now I'm starting to panic. I call one of the women whom I drove home with, she's still up, where is the table cloth from the table? It's plastic, she tells me, she through it way with all its detritus.

Where is the trash bag? She has already taken it back to the dumpster in our cohousing community.

I look at the clock, it's late, my husband and kids are long asleep. I grab a flashlight (this is before my obsession with headlamps, a piece for another post) and walk back to the dumpster.

Good news bad news when I get to it. The good news? it is completely obvious which bag is the one Amy has just dumped in. The bad news? it's the only bag, alone and the bottom of a full size dumpster.

I pull over a milk crate and reach down low attempting to fish out the bag. Can't get it. I use tools. Still no luck. So, no choice, It's a warm night, with some moon and the alcohol from the evening hasn't completely worn off my bravado. I hoist myself INTO the dumpster.

I look through the bag painstakingly, hopefully. I find nothing. Disappointed, I move to get out of the dumpster. I discover that there's nothing to stand on except a small bag of garbage.

It isn't enough. I discover that I have virtually no upper body strength and cannot hoist myself out of the dumpster, gravity is no help here.

It's 2am and I'm trapped in a dumpster.

I consider yelling for help but I don't want to wake anyone up, but I sure as hell don't want to spend the rest of the night in the dumpster. When I'm under stress of any kind, I eat. I briefly consider the pie pan with remnants that I found when looking through the bag. I discard that thought--I might need the pie more at about 6am.

The floor is gross so I can't sit on it. I have to stand while I think. Periodically, I try to get a toehold on some side of the dumpster or to pull myself up. No luck.

I look at my watch again, it's 2:30am. I've been in the dumpster for half an hour. Time is passing very slowly. I want a shower, bed and clean pie.

The thought of a shower and clean pie somehow gives me a creative impulse and I realize that I have not been fully utilizing the garbage bag. My memory is foggy but there was a breakthrough of some kind and before you know it, I've found a way out of the dumpster.

Hallelujah! I am free. I come home, take my shower and get in bed. I thank god for getting me out of the dumpster, even if the rings could not be found. In the morning, as I open my eyes, I see my wedding rings on the bedside table next to my head.

Spiritual lessons learned: Before I go to drastic lengths to find something, make darn sure it's lost.

Take the Light Rail To Folsom and Ride the American River Parkway

Monday I took my bike on Sacramento's Regional Transit light rail train to the last stop in historic Folsom and then road it all the way back home, some 30 miles along the American River bike path.

If biking holds any appeal for you whatsoever, I highly recommend replicating some or all of this adventure. Some of my readers will be the sorts that can ride 60 miles in a day, in which case, enjoy riding both ways (uphill and down). But up until Monday I had never ridden more than 20 miles in one day, so this was a stretch for me.

It took me an hour and $2.00 to get from Sacramento to Folsom on the train. It took me 4 hours (even on my killer (borrowed) custom-made road bike I bike really slow) to bike back. A fit fast pedaling individual would probably do it in half the time.

There were some challenges presented in planning the trip. Nowhere online could I find an address or description of where the light rail station is in Folsom. The RT website confirms that it goes to "historic Folsom" but declines further information. Various friends of mine speculated as to where I would get out, most visualizing that I would be on the south (wrong) side of Highway 50, needing to cross it to get to the river parkway.

The reality is that it couldn't be easier to get on (I almost said "access" but I really think that's an obnoxious verb) the bike trail from the train stop. The Historic Folsom light rail station is located at Sutter and Reading in old Folsom. When you exit the train, you turn left, go to the end of the parking lot and there, to the left of the American River Bridge, is a little path that dumps you directly onto the parkway. It's maybe a total of 150 yards from the train to the river!

The ride from Folsom to the Nimbus Fish Hatchery is breathtaking. You're on the south side of the river, right down by the river seeing and hearing no traffic. On a gorgeous fall day, with my ipod blaring (hmmm, traffic?), I was completely blissed out. If riding all the way from Folsom to Sacramento intimidates you, consider doing just this stretch and then peeling off and crossing over the fairly obvious pedestrian bridge at the Fish Hatchery to return to Sacto from the Hazel ave.

Once you circumnavigate that part and the recreation places at the base of Lake Natoma (all easy and obvious on bike path that takes you slightly away from the river), there's another great stretch down to Goethe (inexplicably pronounced by the locals "Gay-tea") Park where you are forced to cross the river on a nice bridge. The whole rest of the way is very nice but less compelling than the initial stretch since you are often separated from views of the river by bushes or trees. If you're like me, you may spend the last hour thinking mostly about how sore your butt is.

Living right downtown, 5 blocks from the Sacramento River, I, of course, road to Discovery Park at the junction of the two rivers, crossed back over the American and headed down the Sacramento through Old Sacramento to get home.

Most importantly, I remembered along the way and at the end to be grateful for my health, the bike, the time on a weekday, healthy kids at school, the great weather, the river itself and the years, money and imagination it took to build the parkway and the light rail.

All in all, a day well spent.

Anti-Hillary Sentiment Tests Spiritual Principles

In the past few months, I have moved from generally worried that Hillary Clinton will be the nominee to full-on panicked that she will be. In this same period, I have moved from concerned that she might not win the White House if she were the nominee, to terrified that she will be President. [Note: Unlike most of the media, I do not assume that she will win the primaries. Stratified random samples of likely voters are not the same as real voters. I am still hopeful that the contrarian people of Iowa and New Hampshire will come to their senses.]

My spiritual and practical principles have kept me from ranting about this much in this blog. Why? Because I believe that wherever I put my attention and energy will bear fruit. So I should put my attention on what I want (peace, prosperity, sustainable development) not what I don't want (war, poverty, global climate change--aka Hillary for President--hey, I wonder if her handlers considered that as a slogan "Hillary for President--war, poverty, global climate change!").

I truly believe that one of the reasons that George Bush got (re-)elected President is the amount of energy that was focussed anti-Bush instead of pro-Kerry. The whole country was thinking Bush Bush Bush and so it happened.

Now I keep thinking Hillary Hillary Hillary. Here's why I don't want her to be the nominee:

• She's for the war. She's never stopped being for the war in Iraq and now she's helping move along the war in Iran.
• She's got no articulated position on how to address global climate change quickly and effectively as president. There's no evidence that it is even in her top 10 issues.
• Her health care proposal could have been written by Republicans, it is a joke.
• There is no evidence that she has any closely held beliefs about anything--what does she care about except gaining power?
• She's a "centrist" without having any appeal in the center--the worst possible combination. She really is Republican light but the Republicans and center hate her viscerally. So we're forced to run a pro-Hillary (or anti Bush--no matter who the nominee is Democrats will run against Bush) campaign without being excited about anything she does.
• Nobody could galvanize and organize the Republicans like Hillary.

1. Now I am aware of the inherent contradictions in this piece and in the list above.
   
2. I'm equally afraid of Hillary winning and not winning in a general election--that I think makes some sense. Basically, she can't be the nominee because both outcomes are bad either we get a Republican as President, or we get Republican-lite as President.
3. If being anti-something is such a powerful force, than that might be what gets her elected in the general election. And that's true.
4. I can't get the numbering to turn off in this blog so I'll end it on this thought: if anything in this column resonates with you, go out right now and work really hard for John Edwards or Barack Obama and then when the first primary results are in, coalesce around the candidate that shows the most chance of beating Hillary. But please, concentrate on being pro-them instead of anti-her.
   

Was Dr. Jekyll a drug addict?

My guess is that this is a trite or tired observation, but it struck me hard as it hasn't before that the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde could really have been Robert Louis Stevenson's way of exploring the issue of drug addiction in the 19th century.

The good doctor drinks a concoction of his own making and becomes a different person with base instincts. He finds that he soon has to go to the apothecary for more and more of the ingredients. He must have the potion or he will go out of his mind.

At first, he denies that his drugged self is doing anything terrible. But slowly the evidence grows. Soon he is face to face with the horrible things he has done. Yet still he cannot stop. He must have the potion, he must become Hyde. He must pretend he is only Jekyll. In the end, he is driven into madness by his obsession and his inability to return to his former self.

(:)(:)(:)(:) for Jekyll and Hyde at Runaway Stage

Four snouts up for Jekyll and Hyde at Runaway Stage, now playing at Sierra 2 in Curtis Park through November 25th.

I struggled with the number of snouts on this one, so here's the caveat, I am giving this four snouts out of a possible five judging it by the standards of community musical theater not Broadway (or better yet, off Broadway) productions. Second caveat, I hate community musical theater (even though I like Broadway musicals). Interesting for me, since I grew up absolutely obsessed with performing in children's community musical theater.

But this is a quality production. I've never seen this musical staged before. The show itself is well-written, well-scored, very dark, with the music echoing the themes. The script takes liberties with the plot of the original Robert Louis Stevenson book (as recently recounted to me by my 12 year old, and vaguely remembered by me)--in this version, there's sort of a trumped up love story focus rather than a detective story focus. Also, Hyde's rapacious sexual appetite is developed here.

The cast was really excellent for this sort of show--the vocal leads of Tevye Ditter (Jekyll/Hyde) and his fiancee Norma-Jean Russell (Emma) made up for their wooden acting skills and (in Russell's case) dubious physical charms) with extraordinary voices. Russell's is out of this world Broadway recording quality--you can see why she was cast. The ensemble is filled with voices you can tell could play leading roles in other such productions.

But the standout performance in the show clearly comes from Amber Jean Moore (Lucy) who is the only performer who has it all: voice, acting, physicality and perfect casting. You absolutely believe her as the hooker with a heart of gold who is simultaneously repelled and in Hyde's sexual thrall.

So if you like this sort of thing, see the show. Warning: I thought the themes and simulated (clothes on) sex on stage/dancing were too mature for my 10 and 12 year olds. I'd recommend limiting this to a mature 15 year old or up.

Pay Attention to Coincidence

As the grandchild of a Jungian, I was raised on "synchronicity"--the Jungian term for paying attention to coincidence. My grandmother, Sally Stevens Nichols, author of Jung and Tarot: an archetypal journey lived by it, and my mother definitely tracked it as well.

As a teenager and young adult, I came to view the notion of synchronicity sceptically. So you kept seeing the same symbol or animal or person over and over again? So what? Unless you believe in an unseen hand that is arranging all things for you, it makes no sense to ascribe any meaning to it. It is merely a coincidence (which popularly means that two things coincide for no particular reason).

In the past couple years I have learned that (and why) there are no meaningless coincidences. Deepak Chopra, M.D., in his marvelous mandatory book The Spontaneous Fulfillment of Desire: Harnessing The Infinite Power of Coincidence, explains it best:

There are no meaningless coincidences. It is not that the universe, or some unseen hand that is ascribing meaning to these coinciding events, it is us. At any given time in our field of experience, there are hundreds if not thousands of things that we could pay attention to. Some of them we do, and most of them we don't. Right now, I'm moving my attention from my computer screen to the clutter of my office, the Halloween detritus, the random lipstick that may be smooshed, the ipod I need to charge up. No wonder I mostly look at the screen!

Have you ever had that phenomenon where you hear about something new, a word, a car, a movie, a concept, and "suddenly" you hear it, see it, everywhere? Of course you have. Is that because suddenly events are arranging themselves to display more of that item? No. It's because now your mind is interested in it and is paying attention to it.

What's interesting about coincidences is not the fact of the coinciding people, places or things. What's interesting about coincidence is that I notice them. Coincidences are a clue as to what is most important to me. Of all the things I could pay attention to, I pay attention to this.

Chopra calls them clues to one's heart's desire, one's life destiny--the best that our subconscious (or "non local intelligence") wants to bring into the world. He tells a compelling story of how he followed coincidences to leave a hard-won prestigious medical research fellowship to go work in the ER of a county hospital only to discover his life's work, the connection between mind and body and to becoming an incredibly successful writer, speaker, runner of institutes.

Another book I like on the subject is Synchronicity: the Inner Path of Leadership by Joseph Jaworski (Leon's son). This book tells Joe's story of how he followed synchronicities to go from being a Type A Republican Texas wheeler dealer lawyer to founding an international institute for connecting people and public policy.

I have been experimenting for the past year with this. I try to write down coincidences every night in my journal putting a star next to the big ones. I believe they are shortcuts. Example, if a bunny keeps showing up in my life, everywhere I turn I see a bunny, and then I am faced with a choice between two things, one of which involves a bunny, one of which does not, I choose the bunny option. That most likely will result in my getting quicker along my path. Going where I want to go faster, more smoothly, with more clarity, focus, ease and grace.

Coincidences or synchronicities are signposts on what otherwise would be my largely unmarked path.

Halloween theme overplayed in politics this year

Is it just me or did all involved overplay the halloween theme this year in political/policy circles? Every year there's at least one or two press hits at Halloween about what's "really scary." But this week I felt like it was a constant barrage of increasingly desperate and hateful emails from campaigns or organizations all with almost identical language:

This year for Halloween, dress up as someone really scary, "a right winger," "a Republican," "a prison guard," or "a supporter of compromise health care plans."

Strangely, I expected to see the corollary on the right--about how scary liberals are. Maybe it's because I'm not on any of their listserves, but I couldn't find it. I thought if People for the American Way is helping me dress up as the terrifying specter of Ann Coulter, surely someone has put together an Al Frankenstein costume?

Okay, I was able to find the Minnesota College Republicans Youtube posting on Al Frankenstein, but is that all?

Frankly, the whole theme needs to be put back in its grave for a couple of more years. These tired undead advertisements are mostly very boring and predictable.

Exception (and yes, I'm an Edwards supporter). I did find this alternate reality front page from the Edwards campaign both truly scary and funny. So if you're going to do it, be really really clever.

The Ring Cycle--Part II

Readers will recall my recently launched series on spiritual lessons learned while losing my wedding rings--read Ring Cycle--Part I for background.

The problem with starting the ring cycle the way I did is that all the other stories will be boring in comparison, but here goes. We used to be members of this amazing camping and swimming park on the Cosumnes River near here called the Van Vleck Memorial Park.

Two of my ring stories start in this setting. The first time, I was with a group of cohousing women on our annual women's night out at the river. I removed my watch and rings, as was my custom, and put the rings on the watch and set them in my car on the divider between the front seats.

We all had a frolicking good time being river nudists after dark in the warm river (with no one else around to see) remarking once again how you can never predict which bodies will look better naked than clothed (it's true: you think you can, but you really can't!).

Afterwards, at home, I realized that one of my rings was missing--one of the diamond platinum set this time, I think the engagement one with the biggest diamond.

Retracing the evening's steps, I figure out (and confirm) that when a neighbor borrowed my watch, the rings fell off it and she thinks there are 2, not 3, she retrieves the 2, putting them on back on the divider, but the 3rd lies lonely and afraid in the cow-trodden grass of the Cosumnes River banks.

The next day I rent a metal detector and convince my friend Jane to take her 4 children and join me out at the river. It is a Monday, not a soul is there.

We locate what we think is the car spot, and crawl on our hands and knees (the children doing the same) looking for the ring. No luck.

We look more, using the detector. No luck.

Hours pass. We get hungry. We had not planned on being here for lunch. I give up looking. I am spent. I drive to the nearest taco bell in Rancho Murieta for sustenance for the group. Jane keeps looking.

While at Taco Bell, my cell phone shows a message has come through without ringing. I retrieve it and it's a very excited Jane, repeating inanely, "I found the ring. I found the ring. I found the ring. I found the ring. I found the ring. I FOUND the ring. I found the RING. I found the ring."

I rush with my tacos and sodas back to the river and we dance on the banks for joy, holding hands in a circle (I think I may have made this part up, but it makes a nice feature to the story).

There it is, the ring, some 100 yards from where we were looking for it. I would have long ago given up if it hadn't been for Jane. She had patience and persistence and a belief that it would be found.

Spiritual Lesson: sometimes to get what you seek, you must ask for help and let go.

Increased Violence in Children's Lit?

Three snouts up for Seeing Redd, book two in The Looking Glass Wars trilogy by Frank Beddor.

Astute readers will remember that I gave The Looking Glass Wars, book 1 in the trilogy, 5 snouts up instead of a measly three (read by post). In fairness, Seeing Redd shows the same depth of imagination and gift for storytelling that Beddor evidenced in his first book.

Actually, I docked the book two snouts because upon reflection I became appalled by the violence. Both books are filled with fighting--ingenious weaponry imagined by the powerful battling "warrior queens," extraordinary methods of defending against these horrors such as hoards of murderous "glass eyes" with showers of flying razors provide the main drama of the story.

And I'm just sick of it. I doubt if Frank Beddor was as cynical as I am, but I can picture some studio executive rubbing his hands together (yes, it is being made into a major motion picture), "it's got everything, the girls will love the queens and the imagination, the parents will love the quirky take on Alice in Wonderland and everyone will love the mass murder!"

Is it my imagination or has children's literature taken a particularly violent turn lately? The Harry Potter series (which I loved) gets more and more gory and violent. The Wonderland award-winning series is brutal and, although I haven't read it yet, it seems that The Golden Compass series which is about to be released on film contains its fair share of fighting.

Is this all necessary to capture children's imaginations? Is it all being driven by Hollywood and a thirst for the inevitable jump to the silver screen? Even children's classics like the Chronicles of Narnia seem to have been made more violent as they move to movies--I don't recall nearly so much emphasis on a battle or war between Aslan and the Ice Queen as the movie focuses on.

Astute readers of children's literature will no doubt point out the gruesome events in the original fairy tales of old and site Bruno Bettleheim's The Uses of Enchantment where I dimly recall that he posits the pivotal psychological importance of bringing children's worst fears out in the open to the page.

But these worst fears used to be: losing ones parent (ala Bambi or Lion King), an evil stepmother, or being lost in the forest. Now they're watching the Dark Lord murder your friend, cut off someone's body parts and then sic his snake on you or watching scores of "card soldiers" mowed down by flying knives.

I, for one, don't think it is necessary or appropriate. I have come to the conclusion that at best violence in children's literature is a lazy way for writers to introduce drama and court commercial success and at worst, it fills a generation of children's minds with countless horrors and gives them the impression that the best place to apply their creativity is in coming up with interesting ways to kill people.

I know its possible to write and read exciting imaginative books that hold kids' attention without all this violence. Seeing Redd and The Looking Glass Wars ain't it.

(:)(:)(:)(:)(:) for The Gospel Project of Austin, TX

Five Snouts Up for The Gospel Project of Austin, Texas, a terrific rocking peace and love gospel band.

Warming up for the wedding where I "discovered" them, I groaned slightly as I heard the first strains of "The House of the Rising Sun," but fell in love as they layered the lyrics to "Amazing Grace" over it (hilarious, inspired and musical, like the band itself). After that I couldn't get enough (in an alcohol-free state, I might add) of their blend of rock and gospel with fabulous vocals by (gospel soloist) Jessica Shephard--what a sound!

The next day I saw them pack South Austin watering hole Maria's Taco Express as they laid down tracks for their second CD backed up by the South Austin Unity Gospel Choir. The audience danced, laughed and sang along.

Listen for me screeching in the background during "Woke Up this Morning with My Mind Stayed on Freedom" and keep an ear and an eye on the The Gospel Project.

Firestorms ask: How green is my insurance commissioner?

Although the job of (statewide elected California) Insurance Commissioner is not often associated with environmental issues, both the current and the immediate past job holders ran green. With the Southern California firestorms highlighting the effect of global climate change on the possibility of disasters and their attendant insurance claims, one wonders, what will/have these insurance commissioners done to move the insurance industry into political/economic reality?

In Europe, the insurance industry has been a crucial partner with environmentalists to pursue sane environmental policies that stem the production of greenhouse gases, thereby slowing global climate change, and protecting their bottom line.

In the U.S., the insurance industry routinely acts in lockstep with the Chamber of Commerce to oppose environmental bills which inconvenience polluters.

Past (Democratic) Insurance Commissioner and current Lt. Governor John Garamendi wants to be governor of California. He calls himself an environmentalist and campaigns on the need to do something about global climate change. Yet, when he was Insurance Commissioner did he use his position to nudge the insurance industry out of its historically anti-environmental stance? I don't recall hearing about such efforts.

Of course in his current job, the rigors of whale-naming duties prohibit him from having much affect over environmental policy--but did he do it when he could?

Current (Republican) Insurance Commissioner Steve Poizner also calls himself an environmentalist (increasingly a requirement for election to statewide office--the only two Republicans elected, Schwarzenegger and Poizner statewide positioned themselves credibly as environmentalists). Here's his chance to prove it.

Of course no regulator alone can be responsible for the overhauling the recalcitrant political habits of an entire industry, but they can use the bully pulpit to raise the issues, educate the industry as to their bottom line interests and make it inconvenient to continue to behave irresponsibly, for their shareholders, if not for their insured.

Could Global Warming Melt the Insurance Glaciers?

Earlier this year, I had a snarky exchange with Pete at the annual Labor Day picnic in Foresta, which is a little community in Yosemite National Park in which my family has a home. Pete is an insurance agent and a Republican.

Pete is also the chair of the Foresta Preservation Assocation on which I used to serve as a board member. Every year at the 4th of July and Labor Day picnics, Pete brings park officials to the event to talk about what the park is doing to protect Forestans from forest fire. As he introduces them and throughout their presentation, he insults them as government officials, making remarks about the inefficiency of government.

As most of the problems Forestans have in the park stem from lack of funding from Pete's beloved Bush administration, this attitude tends to work its way under my skin festering into a full blown self-righteous rash if I'm not careful.

This year, after my husband (who is a lobbyist for the Sierra Club in Sacramento) gave his opinion on a matter of concern to the community, Pete thanked him, saying "we won't hold it against you that you work for the Sierra Club."

I quipped back, "that's great, Pete, and we won't hold it against you that you're an insurance agent."

He muttered, "you may find a time when you need insurance."

I thought, "you may find a time when you need to breath clean air and drink clean water." [I didn't have the presence of mind to say it though. The creators of deja vu, the French, naturally, have a phrase for this: L'esprit d'escalier, literally ghost on the stairs. It means, when you think of what you should have said, an instant too late.]

With the raging fires in Southern California this week, and reports that at least one major underwriter has recently stopped writing policies in California, I got to wondering about the link between the environment and insurance.

Does the insurance industry, which has historically been a driving force in the Chamber of Commerce in California and its "job killer" bill list, understand that being routinely anti-environment may ultimately affect its bottom line in the form of increased "acts of God" such as massive brush fires, floods and hurricanes?

Could global warming melt the historically glacial pace of change in this conservative industry?

Sitting alone in a room

For 3 weeks now, I have meditated alone in a beautiful room in the state capitol and it's been okay.

The reader naturally will have two questions, the first is necessary for understanding, the second is the subject of this piece: 1) why are you alone in the room? 2) why is it okay?

I am alone in the room because no one has attended the first three meetings of a new spiritual support group that I started in the capitol building October 5th. It meets Fridays from 1:30 to 2:30pm in Room 125 of the State Capitol, downtown Sacramento.

I started the group with the encouragement of several advisers, most importantly God. I am publicizing the meeting through the Capitol Morning Report and some emails to people I think would be interested. Several people have emailed, called or stopped me to say that they're interested in attending for meditation, reading, prayer and sharing, but none have come yet.

The more interesting fact (for me) is that it's completely okay. Room 125 is incredibly beautiful. I am so lucky that the room has been set aside for this purpose. I am so lucky that I get to sit in it every week (and I am committed to continue to do it for at least 6 months). I have had wonderful meditations in there--surprisingly, given the number of boondoggles that have probably been hatched in that very space, the room has a great feel, great energy as we say on the left coast. I have felt that the time is very privileged, very precious.

The main thing is that something in me has shifted. Two years ago, I could not have done this. I would have been filled with anxiety and resentment at sitting in an empty room. The demons would have control of the room: where are your friends? what could you have been thinking? what kind of an idiot sits alone in a room? what if someone sees you? what if someone blogs about you being in this room? what does this say about you?

And now, I simply don't care. Think of all things that have to be true to allow this to happen: I have time and money to do this. I have the room. I have my health. I have the ability to sit still. And most importantly, I have a cell phone.

Life is good.

ps If you come this friday, you'll get to sit alone too. I'll be in Austin, TX for a wedding.

Pick your dream: fascism, terrorism or love?

In the spiritual tradition(s) that I follow, we take responsibility for attracting/creating the conditions of our lives. Sometimes the appropriate responsibility is collective, not individual.

From a scientific perspective, there is no evidence that what we label "war," "starvation" or "torture" exists in any form (for that matter, or more to the point, there is no evidence that "chairs," "people" or "trees" exist either--it is all just stuff that we form into being through consciousness).

In his mandatory book of Toltec wisdom, The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz describes the common dream thusly, humans dream the "dream of the planet." "The dream of the planet is the collective dream of billions of smaller, personal dreams, which together create a dream of a family, a dream of a community, a dream of a city, a dream of a country, and finally a dream of the whole humanity."

For some time I've been preoccupied with the dream of terrorism that many elements of the world share. I don't share that dream. I believe and espouse that we should act from love rather than fear and that making decisions as a society based on fear is frought.

Then I saw Naomi Wolf interviewed on the Colbert Report on her new book The End of America. (I have long admired Naomi Wolf for her pivotal work, The Beauty Myth.) In the interview I learned that the United States is currently exhibiting all 10 warning signs of (not becoming but) having become a fascist state. This scared the hell out of me.

Ever since I saw this interview (I haven't yet read the book--the link above is an article she wrote in The Guardian--btw, I assume even having the words Naomi Wolf (ding!), fascism (ding!), and The Guardian (ding!) in a blog post has put me on several lists if I wasn't already), I have been semi-obsessed with uncovering signs of our impending fascism. I scan every news article or action (or inaction) by the legislature for such.

And I plan my life accordingly. I kid you not, I literally day-dreamed recently about how soon I should get my family out of the country before I'm arrested as a political prisoner and which country would give us safe harbor and won't it be ironic when the land of the free generates thousands of political refugees?

Yesterday it hit me: by focusing on my fear of fascism, I am every bit as fear-based as the people who focus on their fear of terrorism. Yes, I can be interested in pursuing love-based policies. And yes, I can step up my involvement in the ACLU (ding!), but I do not have to focus on what I'm afraid of. I can focus on what I want.

Let's get back to a common dream of love and freedom. DING?

The Ring Cycle--Part I

Spiritual Lessons Learned from Losing Wedding Rings

Unlike most women, I have 3 wedding rings, one that my husband of 16 years (living together 20) put on my finger, which was two kinds of gold and we chose together, and a platinum and diamond set that my grandfather gave me after Bill and I eloped to New Orleans. My grandfather designed the set and had it made for my grandmother when they were married in the 1920's--it's gorgeous.

Nonetheless, despite the meaning these rings have for me, unlike most women I remove them every night and when I shower or swim because I'm allergic to the metal and my skin needs breaks from it.

As a result of the removal and my corresponding general attitude of carelessness, I have lost these rings several times. In this blog, I am going to begin a series chronicalling the spiritual lessons I have learned from losing my wedding rings.

Story 1:

I am in Buffalo, New York visiting my in-laws. Due to previous close calls, I have deliberately left my diamond set in Sacramento, traveling only with the gold ring (I don't want anyone to think I'm not married!). While in Buffalo, we visit Betty Mensch a wonderful former law professor of ours whose mother has a little house down in the Chataqua, NY (aka PBS Disneyland).

After a nice visit and treat, we swim with the kids in the lake. Later we return to Buffalo and I discover that my ring is missing. Knowing that I went swimming, and would have removed my ring, I call Betty and she turns the little summer house upside down looking for it--no luck.

I look around the house in Buffalo too. I inform my husband that the ring is missing. He seems vaguely alarmed at two things: 1) that I'm categorizing it as "missing" when I'm constantly mislaying the rings and 2) that I don't actually seem particularly bothered by it.

The common theme throughout the ring cycle is this: whenever I am in throes of a ring loss, I am overcome with a feeling of peace. I am filled with a sort of inner knowing that all is well and that the ring will return.

In this instance, the ring didn't. We looked all over the house in Buffalo and didn't find it. We returned to Sacramento with assurances from my mother-in-law that she would have her house cleaner look for it carefully when she vacuumed.

Still no luck. I begin to think, "should I panic? where is my ring? I know it's somewhere." I can't describe this "I know it's somewhere feeling." It's craziness really. But all I can tell you is that throughout this loss, my feeling was "it's not lost. This ring is somewhere, I just don't know where."

Now to the average reader, the difference between "lost" and "I don't know where it is" may seem about like the difference between "dead" and "passed away," i.e., nonexistent. But to me the difference is this: lost is hopeless, and I don't know where it is is a temporary condition easily remedied by knowing where it is--ha!

Anyway, long ring story short, years pass and I don't find the ring. Once I even call the jeweler from whom we bought it to explore the possibility of a replacement, but something in me whispers, "don't bother. It is known where it is."

Two summers later we arrive in Buffalo get to the room in which we typically stay and I open the empty drawer in the dresser to begin to unpack my clothes. There, at the bottom of the drawer, all alone is the ring.

Elated, I pick it up and run around the house with it, "I found my wedding ring! See, it was there all along!"

Spiritual lesson learned: there is no time in God--that ring was there all along waiting for me, just like all my other gifts, if only I know where to look for them.

All the way with HBJ

Word on the street is that (former 35th California Assembly district) Assemblymember Hannah-Beth Jackson (D-Santa Barbara) is throwing her hat in the ring to run for the Republican dominated 19th Senate district.

Past conventional wisdom has had it that this district, badly configured in the last redistricting go around, is lost to Democrats (it is currently held by Republican arch conservative Tom McClintock). But current polling data shows Jackson not only wins the Democratic primary but the general election handily.

Jackson in the Senate would not only be a vital pick-up for the Democrats (they only need 1 vote for the budget-proof two thirds) but a crucial victory for progressives. No shrinking violet, Hannah-Beth has always voted her conscience and her conscience is fabulous. Moreover, she's spent her forced (due to term limits) "retirement" from the legislature working hard to improve California through founding and running her effective organization Speak Out California.

That's why I'm going all the way with HBJ!

Maviglio vs. Nichols

You may be interested in reading (Speaker Fabian Nunez' press secretary) Steve Maviglio's comments (and my response) on yesterday's post, CNA vs. Nunez which was also appeared in the California Progress Report.

C.N.A. vs. Nunez

If it wasn't clear before, the gloves are officially off in the relationship between California Assembly Speaker Fabian Nunez (D-Los Angeles) and the California Nurses Association. Today's Sacramento Bee has CNA openly calling for Nunez (sorry, I don't know how to get my blog to bring the requisite tilde to Nunez's name) to recuse himself from the health care debate due to his wife's lucrative position with the hospital industry.

The same article has Nunez spokesman Steve Maviglio firing back calling the nurses "radical and out of touch."

In my experience this kind of open declaration of war between a progressive union and a Democratic leader of the legislature is unprecedented in recent California politics. It simply isn't done.

And, yes, I am known as the Miss Manners of the California Legislature. Everyone knows how much I respect the etiquette of the place.

But whether it is or isn't done, it has been. The CNA leadership clearly has decided that they are not going to let Fabian Nunez get in the way of their goal of achieving single payer health care in California.

I find this open push for what Californians really need refreshing, if risky politically. The goals of the deal that Nunez and Schwarzenegger are negotiating towards reveal that it is they, rather than the C.N.A., who are out of touch with the people of California who want universal health care, real systemic change, not whatever the meager parameters of the politically possible may bring.

Flagging Nunez' supposed conflict of interest is just a convenient way to attempt to blow up this deal. I remember when Paul Koretz was first sitting on the Assembly health committee he had a policy of "recusing" himself from voting on every health care bill that involved Kaiser Permanente because his wife worked for Kaiser. Since virtually every bill was opposed by Kaiser, the net result of Koretz' conflict resolution was to provide a convenient permanent abstention for Kaiser so that the proponents of these measures had to work to replace his vote. It was lunacy.

I don't think the Speaker of the Assembly can reasonably be asked to recuse himself from attempting to solve one of the most important crises of the state. I do, however, think he can be asked to get serious, stop playing the hospitals' game, and put the people of California first.

Three Snouts Up for Dirty Story at Capital Stage

(:)(:)(:) for the Sacramento premiere of Dirty Story by John Patrick Shanley at the Capital Stage in Old Sacramento. The production is well-directed, well-cast, and well-acted. However, the play, in this critic's humble opinion, doesn't work.

Marketed as a complex comedy with political overtones, the play is actually as heavy-handed a metaphor as I've ever seen on stage.

The most damning thing I can say about it is that it reminded me of something that I would have written in college (trust me). John Patrick Shanley is a known quantity, an experienced playwright(Danny and the Deep Blue Sea) and screenwriter (Moonstruck). He should know better than to experiment in this fashion.

Nonetheless, I commend Capital Stage for the choice and I can see why they made it. The cast, set and conceit work well for the space. It was a risky and bold choice not going with a chestnut or established success. And the ticket prices are so low at Sacramento's newest professional theater, that one can hardly resent having spent the money or (in my case) having walked the 12 blocks to see it.

In my estimate, Capital Stage is still the best professional theater company in Sacramento. See the show anyway, tell me what you think, and support their work. I believe it's not too late to buy their unbelievably cheap season tickets for the year (only $55 for 5 plays--you pay more than that for 1 play at Berkeley Rep).

Choose your candidate tool

This link is floating around--you answer a few questions, click on something and voila, a list appears of how the candidates for president stack up on your important issues.

I took it and found (no surprise) that Dennis Kucinich (D-OH) is the best match for me (we agreed on death penalty, Iraq withdrawal and line item veto while none of the other candidates will even bring these subjects up with me anymore). I was a little more disturbed to find that the tool thought Clinton and Obama were slightly better matches for me than John Edwards, my preferred mainstream candidate.

But then I realized, even I don't choose my presidential candidate strictly on the issues. If I did, I'd be Kucinich all the way, blindly supporting him no matter how little chance he has in hell (which is another word for presidential campaigns).

Instead, I favor John Edwards principally for 2 qualities not measured on this quiz 1) my perception that he actually has the courage of his convictions and will fight for them (I think Hillary stands only for Hillary) coupled with my 2) belief that he can win the White House in the general election (I continue to believe that nothing will galvanize a disorganized Republican party like Hillary Clinton and I worry that Obama is too inexperienced a campaigner/operation).

I should also add that regardless of what the quiz says, I think that Edwards is the most progressive of the viable Democratic candidates because he is the only one to speak routinely to challenging entrenched corporate power (he has a career of fighting big corporations and winning in court), he is the only candidate who supports single payer health care, and he is the only candidate who campaigns against poverty and works across the country in poor districts to register voters and educate them about the issues.

But take this quiz and tell me what you think--I'm truly interested to know.

Why Not A Leveraged Bailout?

Today's imminent collapse of the secondary loan market and talk of a bailout reminds me of nothing so much as the early 90s when I cut my teeth on public policy in the midst of the savings and loan bailouts. My former boss Michael Waldman (later a POTUS speech writer) literally wrote the book on 'em. I remember his cynical coaching, "the corporate interests hate socialism when it's for the rest of, but love it when it's for them."

So true. One need look no further than the classic red-baiting consistently used to bring down any form of credible proposal for health care reform. How can it be that the same interests that come together through the Chamber of Commerce to bash government so consistently can expect the taxpayers to foot the bill for a multi-billion dollar bailout for their crushingly bad investment decisions?

Of course I oppose a bailout of these interests. Yes, I vaguely understand the ripple effect, the number of potential homeowners that might not get a loan without a "secondary market" to buy it up from their bank, etc. I grok. But I stubbornly believe, however naively, that banks will make loans if they are good business decisions and they won't if they aren't. I don't believe it does consumers any good to pull them into loans they can't afford and will default on. I don't believe propping up the over-inflated housing market is in the short or long-term interests of working people.

Although the Fed's aggressive action may have staved off a bailout for a time, I tend to believe a bailout is probably foreordained because the combined interests of wall street, campaign contributors and the perceived interests of consumers in getting more risky loans, will be enough to create a congressional majority, if not consensus, for taxpayer bailout of the sub prime market.

So given that virtual inevitability, I suggest we prevail upon the liberal Democrats to leverage something major out of the deal, something they've never mustered the will for before: a truce against government. If Capital gets to raid the Treasury, they agree to a moratorium on government bashing for say, the life of a typical home loan: 30 years.

This way, Congress takes out a 30 year mortgage from big business (and it has to be the whole friggin' chamber of commerce and its interlocking directorates that sign off on it, not just the lenders). The interest paid is this: the space for Congress to regulate for the good of the American people in an environment not poisoned by anti-government toxins.

Better yet, the Dems should push for big business to agree to front a major pro government campaign. Start disclosing on all their advertisements the government breaks that make it possible for them to exist and make money.

Picture this:

"It's never too late to refinance your home with Nations Bank--come in for a free consultation tomorrow. We can afford to loan you this money because of your tax dollars."

or

"The relationship between you and your doctor is treasured by Sutter Medical Group and the federal government."

Now that's a bailout.

Do cell phones really make our kids safer?

Our seventh grader informed me today that he is the only kid he knows without a cell phone. And while he didn't have the audacity to ask for one, he did make it clear that he feels different.

I have no intention of getting our child a cell phone to conform to peer pressure. This same child only got a video game system at age 12 (everyone else got one at age 6 or something), gets no electronic time during the school week, and can't digest wheat, corn or dairy. He's used to being somewhat different (note: he's very well-liked by his peers and not at all lonely--he's also a voracious reader).

It seems to be received wisdom that cell phones make our kids safer, but is that really true? The main justification (and believe me, I understand the impulse) seems to be the idea that we can always reach our kids if they have a cell phone, and they can always reach us. Therefore, the theory goes, we know where they are--but do we really?

Actually, I would posit that cell phones in children's hands potentially decrease safety in a couple of different ways, particularly as kids get older and more independent in their movements.

1) because it's not tied to a land line, we actually have NO idea where a kid is. We are entirely going by what they tell us on the phone. Hence, when he says he's staying over at Johnny's house, he could be at a party at Tiffany's house, or he could be in San Francisco, or he could be in a crack house, or he could be with Tiffany in a crack house in San Francisco.

Where are all these places that our children are hanging out that don't have telephone lines anyway? If he's anywhere I want him to be, my kid can use the real phone or use a pay phone (yes, they still have 'em, I've been checking). That way I have a real number coming up that I can call back. I can talk to a parent. Or I have independent corroboration.

2) if he's not near a land line because he's in transit, he probably shouldn't be on the phone. Does it increase my kid's safety for him to be on a cell phone instant messaging someone when he's crossing the street or on the bus (or, God forbid, he's 12, driving)? No. It decreases his awareness of where he is, which could get him lost and depending on how nice the cell looks, it might make him an increased target for mugging (cell phones and ipods remain the most popular items for theft, robbery, and crime that might not otherwise happen).

3) can I really reach him whenever I want? answer: no. He has to answer the phone. I have watched the existence of a cell phone increase parents' anxiety as they leave message after message and don't hear back from their teen. Therefore, the feeling of security (which is the real reason we buy these things, we can't buy real security, but we think we can buy feelings) dissipates and we feel anxious and scared.

In the old days, you didn't feel anxious and scared when you couldn't reach Johnny instantly. You felt anxious and scared when Johnny didn't come home or check in at the agreed upon times or when Johnny wasn't over at his friend's house which you called by "dialing" a number. All of these options are still available. I would rather have him check in and then be able to call a responsible adult on their cell phone and have them tell me what my child is up to.

4) And finally, our son tells me that the school justifies kids bringing their cells to school because it's a way for them to say one final goodbye or I love you to us as they die in a massive earthquake, fire or terrorist attack.

OH MY GOD, that makes me feel SO much safer!!!! Thank you cell phones, what would we do without you?

Four Snouts Up for Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

(:)(:)(:)(:) for Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, still on the New York Times nonfiction bestseller list. I absolutely loved this book and would recommend it to anyone who'd like a good read--especially if you're even vaguely into travel, food or a spiritual journey. Eat, Pray, Love chronicles journalist Gilbert's yearlong journey. She spent four months in Italy eating, four months in India in an ashram praying, and four months in Indonesia finding love.

Gilbert is wry, self-deprecating and hilarious in describing the disastrous divorce that lead to her decision to take this journey. As a working and serious travel journalist, she was able to get a publisher to give her an advance to take this year and write about it (dream come true for me). There's something for everyone here. If you love a good spiritual journey, you really enjoy watching her evolve over the year--I found her adventures at the ashram trying to get out of a key hour long morning prayer because it "wasn't for her" hysterically funny.

If you kind of hate spiritual anything you can enjoy her mocking herself and also her friends mocking her for this year. It reads like a wonderful novel and is suitable for moms--read this book.