Strange Days Indeed

In many ways, this past week has been gratifying. I was a guest on my friend Bob Cesca's podcast, and we had a good time talking politics (among other things). And then, to my great delight, that led to my being a guest on Stephanie Miller's radio show-- I've been a fan of hers since her show debuted in 2004, but I'd never been asked to be a guest. It was very cool to talk current events with her, and I hope I sounded reasonably knowledgeable. I heard from some of her listeners, and they were very complimentary. I appreciated that a lot! And then, there was the other good news: I am now 10 years cancer free. And a lot of folks on social media (more than 2,000 at last count) reached out to send congratulations, which definitely put a smile on my face.

But on the other hand, I'm still out of work, as are many of the colleagues who got laid off at the same time I did. I've been working since I was in high school, and I'm really not accustomed to being unemployed. Okay fine, I'm keeping busy with volunteering, I'm giving some historical talks at libraries, and I'm writing some free-lance articles-- but it's not the same as having a full-time job. (Plus, we had really good health insurance, but that's a story for another day.) Anyway, I hope I'll find something in the new year. As I've said many times, I can't imagine retiring. There are too many things I still want to accomplish, and I hope I'll get the chance.  

Meanwhile, the Trump administration hasn't officially begun yet, but already there's chaos. For those who were expecting a reality TV show, they haven't been disappointed. I'm still trying to figure out how Elon Musk, who is supposedly in an advisory capacity and was never elected to anything, is already so influential that he can kill a bipartisan budget bill. In fact, it's surreal to go over to Twitter/X and read some of Elon's endless series of tweets, as he berates members of congress and cheers for a government shutdown. I'm seeing lots of "likes" from Elon's followers, but I wonder if they've thought it through. Many of them rely on government services, and if suddenly those services were unavailable for a month (as Elon suggested), I doubt that any of them would be pleased. And by the way, my sister works for the government. She is one of many hardworking and honorable government employees, and it irritates me to hear folks insult what these civil servants do. 

I understand that "the government" and "the media" are frequently used as enemies by Donald Trump and other conservative politicians. But I spent 40 years in "the media," and I can tell you from experience that a strong media helps to keep a democracy alive. Whenever I hear politicians complaining about the media, I know for a fact that if they suddenly received no coverage at all, they'd be furious. And whenever I hear Mr Trump threatening to punish or sue reporters he dislikes (or go after their company's license), it makes me nervous, since that's how an autocrat talks, and I hope we're not sliding into autocracy.

As I told Bob Cesca, I've been making a list of all the moguls and major corporate executives who have made the pilgrimage to see Mr Trump and bend the knee. He hasn't even taken office yet, and he hasn't officially made any demands on them, but they all want to make sure they are on his good side, just in case. I find all of this obeying in advance very puzzling, and yet nearly every day, someone else I wouldn't have expected makes the trip and speaks glowingly of him. The things we do for tax breaks, I suppose...

This year is one of those rare times when Christmas and Hanukkah come at the same time. The Christmas decorations are pretty, yet I see few stores with Hanukkah decorations. Several days ago, I asked the manager in one of the stores why they didn't have any Hanukkah decorations; he got upset with me. Interestingly, that's a common reaction, and not just this year. I've never understood it. I mean, I'm not trying to take anything away from anyone, and I do recognize that Christmas is a much bigger holiday than Hanukkah. I'm just saying that here's an opportunity to include your Jewish customers and make them feel welcome. But evidently, it's too much bother or too controversial or something. 

So, yes, it has been an interesting week, filled with highs and lows, with things that made perfect sense and things that did not. The next time I write, it will almost be 2025. My only resolution is to try not to feel discouraged by some of what I'm seeing in the political realm, and to focus on what matters most: my health, and the people I care about. It still amazes me that so many folks wanted to congratulate me on being cancer-free. Even when times are difficult, it's good to know that kindness and compassion still exist, and the trolls on social media don't represent the vast majority of the folks out there. So, whatever you celebrate, and however you celebrate it, have a wonderful holiday; may you be surrounded by people who love you and wish you well.      

       

What Joe Biden Couldn't Do...and Why It Mattered

I was in my car yesterday, and I turned on the news. President Biden was giving a speech about Syria, and I paused to listen to a little of it. It was a perfectly normal speech, the kind one would expect from a president with many years of foreign policy experience. When it was over, I went back to listening to music and I didn't think much about the speech. But when I got home, I turned on my TV and watched an excerpt of it. And I had an entirely different impression. No, there was nothing wrong with the speech; as I said, it was the kind that presidents often give after some big event in the world has taken place. But my attention was no longer focused on listening to the speech: it was focused on how the speaker looked. And the speech that sounded fine on radio seemed a bit more halting when I saw it on TV. I know President Biden has a stutter and I know how hard he works to pronounce words that are difficult. As I watched him, it seemed to me that he was putting a lot of effort into speaking understandably. And whether I was supposed to or not, I felt bad for him.  

It reminded me of what the famous communication theorist Marshall McLuhan had said about "the medium is the message." In other words, each mass medium impacts, or even alters, the way we receive the message. Consider the Kennedy-Nixon debate in 1960. John F. Kennedy was youthful, conversational, and confident on TV; his opponent, Richard Nixon, looked ill-at-ease, sweaty, and very very uncomfortable. All of us who saw the debate were convinced Kennedy had won easily. But people who listened to the debate on radio, or read the transcript in their favorite newspaper, came away with an entirely different impression-- they believed Nixon sounded more in command on the facts and they believed he surely was the winner. It was perhaps the first tangible example of how the medium of television created an entirely different perception of the candidates from how they were perceived through radio or print.

Joe Biden is not a television president. He has always been an awkward speaker, prone to gaffes, with a tendency to say the wrong thing even when he knows the topic and knows what he is trying to say. He has a very friendly smile, and can be really personable, but he does not seem like he enjoys being on camera as much as he enjoys one-on-one communication with voters or speaking in a place where he knows everyone. Unlike Donald Trump, who has a background in the entertainment industry and a larger-than-life persona that he has utilized for years, Mr. Biden is neither an entertainer nor a performer. He's an old-school politician trying to fit into an era where policy positions don't seem to matter, and constructing an exciting image is everything. It's a world where many people get their information from online sources (which are often partisan and seldom fact-checked), and where our politics often resembles professional wrestling.

That's why I was one of many folks who believed Mr. Biden should never have run for re-election. I know he had some very important accomplishments, and I know he wanted to run on them, but his opponent was a master of our media environment. Donald Trump knew how to capture the news cycle, dominate the conversation, outrage his detractors and inspire his supporters. Joe Biden, nice guy though he was, didn't seem able to do any of those things. Plus, fairly or not, in a visual media universe, he just... looked... old. It wasn't about his chronological age-- I know many people in their early 80s, including some in congress, who are vibrant and articulate. Often, Mr. Biden seemed neither. And since perception is reality, what people perceived was that he wasn't up to the task. 

I wish I had a time machine, that could transport Joe Biden back to the 1970s or 1980s, before people's attention spans got even shorter, before expectations were changed by the internet and social media, back when policies and accomplishments were what voters cared about, and a candidate who cursed or made vulgar remarks at a rally would never have been allowed to continue in politics, let alone get elected president. But while I sincerely believe Joe Biden got a lot done and deserves our thanks, what we needed him to do was something that wasn't within his skill-set. His advisors should have told him the truth. (Or maybe they did, but he refused to believe it.) I can't put all the blame on Mr. Biden, nor on Kamala Harris-- after all, it was the voters who chose Donald Trump, the guy who was more exciting and more outrageous, whether he was qualified for the job or not. So, here we are, awaiting the next episode of the Trump Show, not knowing what might come next. But his supporters aren't worried: they're sure that whatever happens, it's guaranteed to be entertaining. 

In Search of a Little Kindness

I posted a Thanksgiving message on social media a couple of days ago. I thought it was a fairly straightforward and peaceful message, about making the time for gratitude, and the importance of counting our blessings. But evidently, some folks saw it as an opportunity to lash out at me, and I'm not even sure what I did to them.  

Agreed, the majority of the folks who responded were courteous. Many shared some things they were grateful for-- good health, friends and family to share the holiday with, and special moments in their life (like being able to have seen their favorite band in concert or visiting a place that was memorable for them). And a few thanked me for having discovered Rush, or for teaching them something important when they were students of mine, or for mentoring them at a tough time in their life. 

But then, there were a couple of folks who thought my Thanksgiving wish was a perfect time to remind me, gleefully, that Trump had won and now "the libs" were going to be sorry. Needless to say, I was puzzled by this sort of response. For one thing, what does it have to do with Thanksgiving? For another, I don't represent, nor do I speak for, "the libs." It's true that I am more center-left these days than center-right; but why should that matter? Frankly, I believe I'm like most people-- my views about certain issues have changed over the years. That's not even unusual. To cite an example that's well-known to Rush fans, Neil Peart used to be quite conservative and a devotee of Ayn Rand, but he moved away from her philosophy and moderated many of his views as time passed. I try my best to respect other people, no matter which side of the political divide they occupy. But what really irritates me is when some folks arbitrarily decide that if my views aren't exactly the same as theirs, that proves I'm a terrible person, and it's okay for them to be rude to me online. Nope. It's not. Not now. Not ever. 

There was one other kind of response to my Thanksgiving wish that seemed over-the-top. A few folks decided the time was right to witness to me about why I need Jesus; and a few other folks wanted to let me know there is no God and the fact that I talked about "blessings" offended them. Again-- whatever you believe (or don't believe) is fine with me. All I was saying is that it's never a bad time to have the proverbial "attitude of gratitude." Whatever your religion, I'm okay with it. But please don't tell me there's something wrong with mine. There isn't. I'm Jewish, and it works for me. I hope your path works for you. My point is, I wasn't expecting an argument or a debate. I've had my share of problems this past year (getting laid off from my job after 15 years didn't make me very happy), but I sincerely believe I have a lot to be thankful for, and I never lose sight of that. But I guess for some folks, I've got the wrong attitude, or the wrong beliefs. And evidently, there's not much I can do to change their mind.

Like many people I know, I am spending more time on Bluesky lately; I'm still on Twitter/X, but it does seem to have gotten angrier and more confrontational. Bluesky seems a lot more welcoming, and not just towards "the libs"-- I'm pleasantly surprised by the diversity of thought on the platform, and I hope that trend continues. I'm also pleasantly surprised that although I've been on Bluesky for the past few months, recently a whole bunch of folks seem to have found me: I've gone from about 100 followers to more than 2,100 in only the past two weeks. And whether folks agree with what I post or not, I'm hoping we can exchange ideas and perspectives in a spirit of respect and courtesy. Call me old-fashioned, but I still think there's something to be said for kindness. And even in difficult times, I still think there's something to be said for gratitude.      

Learning the Wrong Lessons

I never wanted to have kids. Back when I was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, I was told there was something wrong with me, but these days, I seem to be part of a growing trend. Depending on which survey you look at, as many as 30% of those surveyed say they doubt they'll ever have kids, and they're absolutely okay with that decision. But like many folks in the US, I married someone with kids from a previous marriage, and I became a step-mom. I don't know if I was any good at it, although I tried my best. If I'm honest with myself, there were probably things I could have done better, although in fairness, my step-kids were in their teens when I first met them, and I quickly got the impression that they weren't terribly thrilled about dad remarrying. So, I tried to be somewhere between a mentor and an auntie to them, not knowing what else to do, but it was frequently an awkward situation for all of us. (Perhaps some of you step-parents know what I'm talking about!)

But if being a step-parent in the 1980s was challenging, imagine what it's like today. In fact, imagine what it's like to be any kind of parental figure today. Kids are being raised in an era where increasingly, the major influences in their lives are not parents or teachers, but rather, celebrities, athletes, social media influencers, and podcasters. Kids are so attached to their devices that we've all seen groups of them sitting in a room together but not paying attention to each other at all, because they are glued to what's on their screen. (A friend of mine tells the story of taking her daughter and a friend on a skiing trip, but instead of going outside, the kids sat in the cabin, focused on their devices...)   

And there's lots of research to show that social media companies know how to purposefully manipulate algorithms to give kids more stuff that will "increase engagement"-- to keep them online longer, by giving them various versions of celebrity-focused clickbait, or by showing them stories that will outrage or scare them, or by offering them magic cures for all kinds of problems. Some of these cures are harmless, but some can be dangerous. And no matter how often parents might try to monitor their kids' social media usage, sooner or later, the kids will find a way around any efforts to control what they see. 

And then, there's what they hear. Let's talk about politics. Okay fine, most young kids couldn't care less about politics. But some teens definitely do, and I worry about the message they just got from the most recent election. At the risk of having my Republican friends accuse me of being partisan, the GOP candidate, Mr Trump (who was my landlord when I lived in New York, and I am all too familiar with him), has campaigned in a way that would have horrified the folks from my parents' generation. My father, rest his soul, leaned conservative, and he knew all the 4-letter words, believe me. But he would have been appalled by the idea of a candidate repeatedly cursing during a public speech, or talking about someone's genitalia, or simulating oral sex with a microphone, or using racist and sexist slurs to describe his opponent. But the Trump rally audiences loved it. They applauded and cheered when he said these things. My parents would have been mystified by that too.

And let's talk about ethics. I am a former chaplain, and while I am by no means perfect (far from it), I try to follow the Commandments as best I can. But so many politicians today have not only been married and divorced (in some cases, two or three times), but they have cheated on their spouse and paid no political price whatsoever. Mr Trump himself, and several of the folks he intends to nominate, have had somewhat questionable personal lives. But it seems the rule now is "If they're on our team, we defend them no matter what." Sorry, but that's a problem for me. Call me old-fashioned, but if you're the kind of person who doesn't keep your marriage vows, what other vows are you willing to break? And what kind of a role model are you for the next generation? And don't even get me started on the message that was sent by the January 6, 2021 insurrection: Might makes right, and if our side doesn't win, we'll react violently. Doesn't seem like how I would want my step-kids to act, but maybe that's just me.

So, in a world where vulgarity, violence, and vitriol have been normalized, and doing the right thing seems like a relic of a bygone era for some folks, I worry about what comes next. Way back in 2001, comedian Steve Allen wrote a book-- a screed, actually-- in which he railed at the popular culture and blamed it for all sorts of things. It was called "Vulgarians at the Gate." I wonder how he would feel about what our culture has normalized, about the millions who voted for, and praised, a vulgarian; and who are fine about his behaviors because he's on "our side." But is he? Do you really want your kids to act the way he does? Do you really want the culture to model itself after some angry podcaster or some YouTube influencer? I'm not talking about being the Language Police. I'm not talking about banning words. I'm talking about an attitude I see taking over-- an attitude of cruelty and rudeness, that elevates being crude as long as it "owns the libs." As I said, I'm glad my step-kids are grown. But today's parents have a lot to grapple with, as they deal with the fallout from what just happened in the election. Do positive role models no longer matter as long as "our side" wins? So, tell me: how are you explaining all of this to your kids? 

Are We Ready Yet?

I was thinking about Lillian D. Rock today. In fact, over the past few weeks, I've thought about her a lot. You probably don't know her, so let me introduce her to you, and you'll understand why I've been thinking about her, even though I never met her.

This is one of the few surviving images of her; online, it gives a date of 1935, but that's unlikely. It's probably a photo from when she graduated from law school in 1924. Few law firms would hire a "woman lawyer" back then, so she worked with her brother, who was also a lawyer. And she joined the National Association of Women Lawyers (NAWL), where she eventually became a member of its executive board.

Then, in 1934, Lillian got into the news for her advocacy on behalf of women in politics. American women had only gotten the right to vote in 1920, but Lillian believed there were already numerous qualified women who could take on important political roles-- such as becoming federal judges, as Genevieve Cline and Florence Allen had done. Speaking at conference, Lillian asserted that within her lifetime, she fully expected a woman to ascend all the way to the presidency.

Hoping to make it happen sooner rather than later, she founded the League for a Woman President and Vice President in 1935. Of course, not everyone was as enthusiastic about the idea as Lillian and her colleagues were. Some men were dismissive of it, while others opposed it-- they said only men should lead a country. But the most surprising opponent of Lillian's idea was the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt.

Eleanor had a radio show, and on it, she usually talked about non-controversial and non-political topics. But she addressed Lillian's committee directly, saying that while women had made important gains, they hadn’t been in politics long enough to have earned the public’s trust; she believed it would take a while until that happened, but she could not support what Lillian was proposing. Despite her disagreement with the First Lady, Lillian continued to advocate for women in politics; but she died in 1974, without ever seeing a woman attain the nomination for vice president or president of either of the two major parties.   

The other day, I was reading an interview with a male voter who stated that women weren't tough enough to be president. I also note that whenever there has been a female candidate in the past few years, her male opponent has mocked how she laughed, made fun of how she looked, hinted that she wasn't moral, or claimed that she wasn't intelligent; and of course, she was accused of not being able to handle the difficult work of running a country. 

Listening to the rhetoric in the current presidential race, I often feel like I've just taken a trip back to 1935, when all of those things were being said about women politicians (of both parties) on a regular basis. And I wonder what Lillian would make of the fact that in 2024, women are still enduring the same slurs and insults and accusations as they did nearly 90 years ago. Agreed, the language has gotten more coarse and vulgar, but the basic belief of a lot of people that women who run for president are inferior really irritates me. I hope when people vote, they will look at each candidate's qualifications and consider the vision they have for the country. And I hope that millions of women will finally get to see a woman become president. I'd like to believe that if Lillian were still here, she would be delighted by that. I know I certainly will be.        

 

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Last night, I was looking through some of my Rush-related memorabilia, and I found a few items from October 2012. That may not seem like such a long time ago, but that month turned out to be a very momentous time for Rush and for their many fans; and it was nice to reminisce about it all. 

One reason October 2012 was worth remembering was the Clockwork Angels tour was heading for Boston at the end of the month, and I could hardly wait.

And another reason I was looking forward to it, in addition to seeing the band, of course, was that my friend Pegi was going to be there. If you ever met her, you know what a dynamo she was-- an essential member of Rush's management, I had known her almost as long as I'd known the band. She had been battling cancer, but she told me the treatments had been successful, and she would be able to come to Boston for the concert. That was wonderful news; we had shared a lot since the mid-1970s, and I was eager to give her a big hug. She told me there would be two tickets waiting for me, and that also meant I'd be able to take a dear friend of mine along-- Meg, who was a local journalist and a devoted Rush fan. 

Before the show, I joined a get-together of Rush fans at a nearby Dunkin' Donuts-- they included some folks I'd known for a long while; for the past several years, some of us had been gathering for an annual event we jokingly called Ratcon (we were the "Rush Rats"). But now, they were here in Boston, and it was sort of like a mini-reunion, complete with Steampunk attire.

Before the show, my friend Meg and I went to the meet-and-greet, where we saw Geddy and Alex; Neil seldom if ever showed up for these things, nor did we expect him to. There were some fans who had won backstage passes in a radio contest, as well as some friends of the band who were there to say hello just like Meg and I were. But even though it was brief, it was still wonderful to spend a few moments with Geddy and Alex and catch up on how they were doing.

And then, we went to our seats (I generally watch the show from the mixing booth, where the view is better, and I can enjoy not just the music but the amazing lights-and-special effects from Howard Ungerleider). I won't bore you with the set-list (easy to find it online), but suffice it to say that "The Garden" has always been one of my favorites, and it got an excellent response, as did "Spirit of Radio," "Subdivisions," "Bravado," and so many others. This tour also featured a string ensemble (I had the opportunity to chat with one of the members, a talented violinist named Gerry Hilera; later, we kept in touch for a while). It was an incredible night of great music, and the fans seemed especially enthusiastic. 

Meanwhile, what many of the fans didn't know was that in early October, I had gotten the word that FINALLY, after years of calling, and writing, and petitioning, and doing everything else I could think of, it looked like Rush would be nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. That, however, is a story for another day. The story for this one was about seeing my friends, seeing Pegi, seeing Alex and Geddy and other members of the crew, and feeling grateful to be part of the extended family of Rush fans, able to share another outstanding concert tour. Of course, none of us had any idea that several years ahead, many things would change-- for me, for Pegi, for Rush, and for the fans. But on this night, it was a celebration, and I looked forward to the next one.

There's Still Time to Change the Road You're On

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, comes late this year: it usually comes in September, but this year, it's in October-- it begins at sundown on October 2. Unlike the secular New Year with its emphasis on parties and ringing in the year, Jewish New Year is a lot more reflective, and it's the beginning of the Ten Days of Repentance, which ends with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. 

I've mentioned the Ten Days of Repentance before-- they're an opportunity to apologize to those you've wronged, a chance to re-establish communication with those you may have stopped talking to. It's also a time to look at yourself and evaluate where you fell short, and to atone for what you did wrong. In other words, it's a time to take responsibility for your faults, rather than blaming others or making excuses.

That sounds lovely in theory. But in practice, many of us (and that includes me, to be honest) have a difficult time with the part about admitting we were wrong and being willing to do things differently. It's so much easier to say the breakdown in communication or the argument or the disagreement was all the other person's fault. It's so much easier to avoid thinking about the times we were judgmental or the times we spoke harshly, rather than sincerely trying to do better. We're supposed to admit our mistakes, atone for them, and strive to correct them; but I don't know too many people who enjoy doing that.

And yet, here we are. At this time of year, we are encouraged to do charitable work, and we're encouraged to pray; but above all, we're encouraged to repent. That means to sincerely apologize for what we did wrong and promise to do better. And yes, there's a religious component: we humble ourselves, we fast on Yom Kippur, and we ask God to forgive us. But first, during the Ten Days of Repentance, we are told to make peace between ourselves and those we have wronged, wherever possible. 

I can think of several folks I need to apologize to. And whether they accept my apology or not (and I hope they will), I'm still supposed to make the effort. Meanwhile, I've been thinking a lot about how I can be a more patient person in the New Year-- being impatient is my biggest fault, and I know it. I'd like to believe it's still possible for me to change; I really want to be a more kind and understanding person than I have been.

And if you are one of the people that I have somehow wronged this past year, I do hope you will be able to forgive me. And if you are observing the New Year too, I wish you a year that is both happy and healthy. If it's not your holiday, I appreciate your reading my thoughts about it. One of the nice things about the blogosphere is you can learn about other people's beliefs, directly from them. So, I hope you've found my thoughts about the Jewish New Year informative. Even though it's about self-reflection and repentance, it's one of my favorite holidays, because it teaches us that we can choose to do better, and it all starts by being willing to atone.